text: f v ... 7 ' "vf:' ?i* " fc W. -*.;' - "* :'W '* ? : '-? ' -*... - * * .. | ; r ' " " ' * ' ' jjj ; ,'.'w i - > >T , ** <? I > * < . . -v> ,.N . . ... -.* ?- M, v w.;; , .. v. . j - .-j; *. 7 -: V. . ' 5 ^ ' * > . . . w - v - ->> V*. * - -f ' ?' " ... . i< ? . ,V .. .. <?v. ... ft  ' '' < .. . . __. "" ~~ "" ------- -? PS : ^' samx^mSton Ipropneton- An Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. {lewis m. ghist, puwuher. VOL." 3 YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MARCH 6, 1856. NO. lO. [mice foetrg. From the Columbia Examiner. MARY. by j. wood davidson. Why is the name of Mary sweet ? Oh ! tell, ye nymphs of air ; Say, 'mid the spheres where angels meet, Do echoes love it there? Where nought is known But bliss alone, Do echoes love it there ? There, where the very breezes speak In music's mildest tone, Where nought of discord darc3 to break, Say, is its power known? Where seraph's song Floats wild along Say, is its power known 1 Yes, 'tis an angel-echoed word That charmed the carnate ear; A note?a breath?that mortals heard Fro. n forms that hovered near? .by Eden's gate, Where cherubs wait, From forms that hovered near. The name, the echo, as it fell, was to the dearest given; and, since we know it as a spell that breathes on earth of Heaven, love's echo true, forever new. That breathes on earth of Heaven. Each heart it warms and there's enshrined, however the promptings vary; it speaks a mother, sister kind, or else some "dearest Mary"? One dear by birth as aught of earth, or else some "dearest Mart." WINNSBORO, S. C. A CAROLINA WOMAN OF THE REVOLUTION. The county of Mecklenburg, N. C., so famous for its battles, the spirit of its people, the prowess of its heroes, and the noble daring of its women, during the Revolutionary struggle, has many records of heroism written in the hearts of the inhabitants, which have never been made public. The history of the Scottish Presbyterians of the whole Catawba region, will be remembered with thrilling interest, and told to youthful generations as an example both political and religious, as long as the principles of true republicanism and the love of liberty shall reign in the land. One of these home pictures which have found no place in the great gallery of history, I shall offer to the reader. The subject was living in 1851, ninety years of age, keeping house by herself, and entertaining travelers; having twenty or thirty negroes under her charge, and dispensing with the services of an overseer. The intelligent gentleman who furnished the details of this sketch? D. G. Stinson, Esq.?said her servants were better trained than any he ever saw, and appeared perfectly happy, as did their indulgent and venerable mistress. The late Colonel Dickinson was a relative of Mrs. Smart, and visited her shortly before his departure for Mexico. The maternal grandfather of our heroine, Thomas Spratt, was of Irish extraction, and removed from Pennsylvania to Mecklenburg County; being the first settler who ever crossed the Yadkin in a carriage, for such luxuries were unknown in those log-cabin days. The first court convened in the county was held in his dwelling. He had two sons who fell in battle, and six daughters, one of whom was the wife of Colonel Thomas Neil, who commanded in the campaign of 1776 against the Cherokees, and was noted for his bravery and services. Another daughter married Colonel Thomas Polk, who, with his son William, served with distinction under the immediate command of Washington, and was, besides, celebrated for his efforts in the cause of public education. To him Mecklenburg was indebted for the establishment of Queen's Museum, or Liberty Hall. Ann Spratt, another daughter, was the mother of the subject of this memoir. She married John James Barnett, who also emigrated from Ireland. Mary, their eldest daughter, was said to be the first child born between the Yadkin and Catawba Rivers. She married Captain James Jack, the bearer of the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence to the Continental Congress. Mr. Wylie, of Charleston, is one of her descendants. Susannah Barnett was born in 1761. As her family and connections were conspicuously active in the Revolutionary war, her earliest recollections were of its stirring events. She was present at the great gathering of the people at Charlotte, on the 19th and 20th of May, 1775. The provincial convention of North Carolina had assembled at Newbern, in opposition to the proclamation of Governor Martin, and had approved of the acts of their representatives in the Continental Congress of the united colonies. On the 19th May, handbills were brought by express, containing news of the battle of Lexington, which had taken place exactly a month before. These were read to the vast assemblage, and filled all with enthusiasm. Then there was no sectional feeling; but the same sentiment pervaded the masses north and south. An attack on the liberties of Massachusetts was viewed as an attack upon Carolina. It was a glorious day for old Mecklenburg; and often described by Mrs. Smart as "the day of throwing up of hats." The love of country and liberty fired the hearts of all classes. The brother of Susannah, William Barnett, though but a lad, was bent on joining the patriots. He persuaded an old negro, Derry, to hide his clothes in the woods, and swinging himself from the window by a rope, one night, he went to Charlotte, volunteered, and did excellent service in the snow campaign of 1776. In 1780, in that darkest period of the Revolution for the Carolinas, when, after the fall of Charleston, British military government prevailed everywhere, the states in the language of General Greene "cut off from the Union like the tail of a snake the inhabitants forced to take protection or flee the country, Susannah, with the rest of her family, gave all possible help to the refugees. She was accustomed to say, in after life: "Oh, how we love the people of Fishing Creek, Chester District (S. C.) They suffered so much, and periled everything, rather than receive British protection. I saw the Rev. John Simpson, of Fishing Creek, with these very eyes, assist my mother in serving and making new meals, in June, 1780; while the refugees of South Carolina were collecting and forming their camp below, at Clen's Branch. One day, a dusty, travel-weary party of fugitives arrived at the large three-story log house occupied by John Barnett, and craved hospitality: it was General Sumter with his family. His wife, a cripple from infancy, was placed on a feather bed on horseback, with a negro woman behind to hold her on. She had fallen off several times, and her face was black with bruises. Her son, Tom, a boy of sixteen, was with them, and a young woman, their housekeeper, named Nancy Davis. She told their kind hosts how the British and Tories had come to Sumter's house; how she had locked up everything, and flung the keys among the grass in the yard; but it availed nothing; the enemy fired the house, and all was soon a pile of ashes. General Sumter's family, who had escaped with difficulty, were received most warmly, and remained here more than a month. After the slaughter of Buford's men at the Waxhaws, the wounded were brought to ?"? i ri 1 i .1 _ .Darneic s nouse. cusannan saw ner momcr feed six men, who had but two arms among them. Her father and two brothers were at the battle of Hanging Rock. Trembling for their fate, Mrs. Barnett went to Charlotte to obtain tidings, and there heard of the battle, and the death of Captain David Reid. Overwhelmed with apprehension, she burst into tears. A friend?the aged John Gaston, of Fishing Creek?rode up, and inquired of her the news. "Oh," she replied, "we have dreadful news from the battlefield; Captain Reid is dead; your son, Alexander, was left near the bluff ill of the smallpox, and is since dead; your three sons, Robert, Ebenczer, and David, are among the slain, and Joseph is severely wounded." Such was the story of a single family in those times! The aged and^bereaved father turned deadly pale, but uttered not a word. The wounded were brought to Charlotte, where our heroine remembered seeing Mrs. Mary McClure in attendance on her gallant son, who, svith his lieutenant, Bishop, afterwards died )f his wounds. In crossing the river, the matron had lost her bonnet, and walked bareheaded by his side; Mrs. Bishop also attending on her husband. The Gastons and McClures were old acquaintances of the Barnett family. William McClure, distin ?_T 3 _ _ il . _ _i__ guisneu as a surgeon in ine army, was a student at Liberty Hall, and was often sent on horseback to the river, by Mr. Barnett, when he wished to visit his mother. The defeat of Gates, and the memorable surprise of General Sumter, filled the country with terror and dismay. Early on the morning of the 19th of August, 1780, the road was full of soldiers and fugitives, making their way to Charlotte. General Sumter, with one or two of his aids, rode up to Mr. Barnett's house, dismounted, and entered. "Mrs. Barnett," he said, "do let us have something to eat, if only a piece of johnny-cake and a cup of milk!" The matron answered: "General, I have fed more than fifty men this morning, but I'll try." Some provision had been laid by for the family; it was then produced and set out for the General. While eating, he turned to Susannah and said: "Miss Sukey, please to arrange my hair; but never mind combing it, it is so tangled." His hair was long, and rather light-colored. The young lady, during his repast, clubbed it up as well as she could, tangled as it was. In reply to Mrs. Barnett's inquiry, how it was that the American soldiers and patriots were all flying? Sumter said: "It was indeed a surprise; the enemy crossed the creek before we knew of it, and was in the midst of the camp; I was in the marquee asleep at the time, and was carried out at the back part, and mounted a horse that stood ready, which, however, was soon shot down from under me. I obtained this one I now have; not a very good one, to be sure, and the saddle rather the worse for wear. So I am here. You see I have lost my cocked hat and fine feathers; but this old hat, torn in the rim as it is, has sheltered my head from the burning sun; it was the gift of a noble soldier." With many thanks for his breakfast, and a hearty shake of hands, the General then mounted his horse, and went on his way to Charlotte. Another of the refugees from South Carolina was Walter Brown, with his family, the father of the distinguished divine, Dr. John Brown, so celebrated for his zeal and eloquence. This old and feeble man had been plundered of everything, and came to seek shelter and protection. His family was for some time at Barnett's house. At length the news came that the British were advancing on Charlotte. Mrs. Barnett, standing at the door and looking anxiously down the road, perceived someone approaching. "Sukey and Jenny Brown," she cried, addressing her own child, and the pretty daughter of her guest, "run out to the road and inquire the news." The traveller was a lad on a sorely jaded horse; the face of the rider was very long and sunburnt. Susannah asked him whence he came? "From the Waxhaws," was his reply. "Do you know Major Crawford?" "To be sure I do; he is my uncle." "And who are you?" "My name is Andrew Jackson." "What is the news about the British?" "They are on their way to Charlotte." "What are you doing down there?" "Why, we are popping them occasionally." The long, slender face of the stripling was lit up with a pleasant smile, and bowing with the grace and ease of a polished gentleman, he said: "Good-morning, ladies," and went on his way. As he passed the house, Mrs. Barnett had a full view of his yellow cheeks and long face, and she laughed heartily when she heard of his remark about "popping" the enemy. "Little Andy," as young Jackson was called, was followed by an advance of some 300, under the command of Colonel Davie, who had a skirmish with the British by night at Wahab's in the "Waxhaw settlement." Jack Barnett, the brother of Susannah, was of this party. As Davie's dragoons went up the lane, he saw something in a corner of the fence, dismounted and saw it was a Tory, whom he knew, named Dixon. The Tories threw down his gun and ran; Jack was left on foot, his horse having gone on with the mounted troopers. The fighting just then commenced, and while the young soldiers were making their way towards the scene of action, the flashing of the guns showed him the cornrows in the field, and the bullets whistled around him so thickly, he "seemed to be," to use his own words, "in the midst of the discharge of three hundred gunsyards he escaped, bearing Dixon's weapon in his hand. Passing through the lane, he took to a tree for shelter, fired at two British dragoons that came near, and went on. Presently, he was challenged by some of the Americans, and gave the countersign. "Jack Barnett, is that you?" called out Will Polk; "where is your horse?" "The last I saw of him," answered Jack "he was running after Charlie Polk." "Get up behind me, then," said the other, and the two galloped off together. In this battle, Thomas Spratt, then over fifty, received three bullet wounds, and was carried from the field to his own house. A party of British soldiers not long afterwards arrived there. They were told that Mr. Spratt was ill; but they insisted on having the house for their own sick, and the owner was removed into the kitchen. It was here Major Frazer, of the British army, died, while Cornwallis and Rawdon both stood by his bed, and averred, with lifted hands, that "he was one of the best officers who had crossed the ocean." A Scotch physician was in attendance; he afterwards went into the kitchen to examine Mr. Spratt. "What is the matter with you, maun?" he asked. "I have a fever." The physician felt his pulse, and exclaimed: "Why, maun, you are wounded!" "And what if I am?" said the patient. "Ah, I am fearful you have been fighting against your lawful sovereign, King George." "I have been fighting for my country, and if I was well, I would do it again," replied Spratt. "Well, well, you are a brave soldier, and I'll dress your wounds for you," said the Scotchman; and he did so, and attended on him as long as the British troops occupied the house. These unbidden guests took from Spratt over a hundred head of cattle, hogs, &c. When the time came for marching, the army formed line before the door, and then formed a hollow square, with their drums muffled. These played a mournful air; till at length the army deployed, and took up the line of march with a lively tune and a quickstep. The cause of this ceremony was the punishment of one of their own soldiers, whose body hung from the limb of a tree, having been executed for an alleged attempt to desert, and join Davie's troops. Mr. Barnett's house was also visited by the British soldiers, who plundered it of everything. "When one of the horses was brought up and bridled for their use, Mrs. Barnett walked up and pulled off the bridle. Some of the men threatened to kill her. "You can do so," she answered, "I am in your power; but if you do, you will be punished for it." Seeing a crock of milk which the intruders had brought from her cellar, she passed near, and pushed it over with her foot. The infuriated soldiers rushed at her, swearing they would cut her to pieces. "Do it if you dare!" said she, with an air of hughty defiance; "you will be shot at from every bush in the country." They did not molest her, but went away without the milk or horse. Some two weeks after this affair at Wahab's, a young man named William Ellet, whose brother had been killed, came to Barnett's house, having with him a Tory prisoner. After eating, he drank freely, and recurring to the scenes of the battle, and his brother's death, he became violently excited, and struck his prisoner on the head. The blood spouted from the wound. Mrs. Barnett persuaded Ellet to go into the house, and while she endeavored to pacify him, the Tory made his escape. The compassionate matron took a cup of water, and went in search of the prisoner. She found him lying behind a log, two hundred yards from the house, gave him water, and bound up his body. Head. This incident, among others, may show that kindness was often interchanged between enemies. The residents in the country found it necessary to hide their negroes, and some carried them beyond the Yadkin for safety. Barnett's were concealed out of the house. The British took thirty or forty from the plantation of Colonel Thomas Noel. Mrs. Noel went to Charlotte, then in possession of Lord Cornwallis, and applied to him, requesting that her slaves might be restored. Cornwallis coolly told her she should not have them. She pleaded that most of her children were daughters, raised without knowing how to labor, and that she could not well get along without servants. "You will have to teach the girls to work," gruffly replied the officer. "But let me have some of the negro children," persisted the matron; "they are attached to me, and I to them." "You are a cunning old woman," said Cornwallis; "carry home the calves, and the cows will follow; get the young negroes, and the old ones will run off and go back." "With this answer she was dismissed. Mecklenburg had but few Tories. Some of the wealthy took British protection, but not one in a hundred; and those who did, had occasion to repent very sorely. The case of one may be mentioned as strikingly illustrative. He was at heart a patriot, and all his connections were Whigs, and when he took protection, he soon found it a bitter cross to him. When it was ascertained that the British were going to retreat to Winnsboro', he sent his wife (whose maiden name was Mary Wilson) to Captain Barnett on an errand she was bid to conceal from old Mrs. Spratt, Mary was highly respected by the Whigs, who were willing at all times to do her a service, while they disapproved of her husband's course. She took Mrs. Barnett and Mary, and told them what she wanted the captain to do for her. On the morrow, she said, two British officers were to dine at her house; she wished the captain to collect ten or a dozen men well armed, and came up in the rear. Her husband would give them a signal by coughing, when they were to fire off their guns in rapid succession; he would run off with the two officers—his guests; they were to give chase, make him a prisoner, and bear him off in sight of the officers. This little plot was literally carried out. The husband was taken prisoner; the two officers made their escape to Charlotte, where the British dragoons were ordered out for the rescue of the captive. They made no great effort, however, merely whooping when they came near the place of his capture, and firing off pistols; while Captain Barnett took the road to Nation Ford, his men surrounding the pretended prisoner with drawn swords, before every house they passed on their way. From every quarter the news reached Charlotte of the capture of this individual. His wife performed her part to admiration; weeping and lamenting his probable fate in the hands of those murderous bushmen who killed His Majesty's foreign soldiers in cold blood; while the children went about the house crying in right good earnest for their father. The prisoner, meanwhile, was brought into the presence of Colonel Polk, from whom he received a severe lecture, and went like a child. Captain Barnett told him he might thank his wife for what had been done for him, and warned him if he ever got into such another scrape, he might get out of it the best way he could. The British issued a number of handbills (for they had a printing press at Charlotte), and had then posted up all over the county, warning His Majesty's subjects not to molest or take anything from Mrs., the wife of the protectionist. In the following January, when the British army was again approaching Charlotte, this same man fled precipitately with his family, and traveled as far as Pennsylvania, nearly killing his horses in his flight. His experience was a warning to others. After his departure, Colonel Polk placed the family of General Sumter in his house. Little Tom went to school in the neighborhood more than six months. The young women of the vicinity, while the enemy were in possession of Charlotte, wore removed by their friends, beyond the Yadkin. Miss Barnett was taken away with the rest, and did not return till some time in October. Shortly before the British left Charlotte, the "Whigs captured an express on his way to Camden, bearing a letter from Lord Cornwall, which stated that he intended to leave the town; the inhabitants being so hostile to him that they killed his men from every bush, in cold blood, while they were engaged in collecting forage for his army. Before the enemy retreated from the place, the buried their dead in Liberty Hall, and burned down the building. This college was the same which the British government refused to charter under the name of Queen's Museum. From this seat of learning, many eminent men in Church and State received their education, who have done honor to their country. Susannah Barnett was married in 1795, to George W. Smart. She had three children, whom she lost, and her husband died in 1809. He built the house she occupied in 1851. She lived usually alone, and gave accommodation to travelers who passed, as the road lay near. William H. Crawford, of Georgia, one of her most esteemed acquaintances, always stayed with her, as he went to and returned from Washington. She became extensively acquainted with men traveling in the south, and having a retentive memory, knew almost every family, their pedigree and connections, for several generations. Young or old might find her ready to converse on any subject. "I have lived at home," she was wont to say, "and yet I have seen two of our Presidents. I knew Andrew Jackson; and many a time little Jamie Polk has passed along the road there, with his breeches rolled up to his knees. He was a bashful little fellow." Mrs. Stuart was reared in the doctrines of the Presbyterian church, and remembered all the ministers who occupied the seven pulpits in Mecklenburg at the time of the Revolution. She talked with interest also of the politics of the day, and read the newspapers, even at the age of ninety. She informed Mr. Stinson, on his visit to her, that one of her relatives had been telling her of a political meeting to be held in York District, and had advocated the secession of South Carolina from the Union. She intimated to him that she had heard of this new device, and had also been informed that many of the good, gifted, and great, of South Carolina were not in favor of secession. For her own part, she said: "The North and South stood shoulder to shoulder in the times of '76. We should settle our family bickerings at all times by a compromise." The stump speeches delivered at this period brought to her mind the time when she was a girl of fourteen. For hours at a time she remembered she had heard the Reverend James Hall, of Iredell, who was also a captain of dragoons. There he stood upon the stump, in his fringed hunting shirt, his broadsword by his side, haranguing the people. Although young, she understood every word of his soul-stirring speech. His theme needed no big words to set it off; it was the liberty taught us in the Bible and the Church, at the family fireside. The response to the orator was the noble daring patriots, in the maintenance of national and individual rights; and every bush in old Mecklenburg was vocal with the rifle's report, driving back the ruthless invader. Then the United States formed one country; and a Washington led her armies. MISS MURRAY ON AMERICA. Writing from Newport, on the 13th of August, she says: "There is certainly great beauty and refinement of feature among the mass of the people, but it is accompanied by a fragility of look which raises painful feelings. As far as I can judge at present, this is owing partly to hereditary causes, partly to actual habits. The excitement and anxieties of business life in a new country probably entail constitutional delicacy upon the children of parents so eagerly occupied, and the sedentary city education and pursuits of the young of the last and present generation, unfavorable to out-of-door interests and amusements, do not harden and strengthen the nerves and muscles." I am already tempted to controvert the attention of American ladies, that their generally delicate health is to be attributed to climate. They may have severer winters and warmer summers than ours, but these are accompanied by the advantages of less damp, and of brighter sunshine. I have not had an hour too warm for exercise during any part of the day; for though the sun is brighter, it does not always beam so furiously as with us. The climate of Massachusetts seems to me a charming one, and I believe another generation will discover its merits, because I entertain hopes that the children now growing up will acquire more hardy habits. The evil I am speaking of cannot be remedied in a day; and I find American ladies are at this moment so little informed with regard to natural productions, and so unfitted for country pursuits, that their ignorance of these matters is at once the evidence and the cause of their lack of physical strength. At Newport, she was introduced to Governor Seymour, of New York, whose guest she was during a considerable part of her stay in this country, and whose hospitalities and courtships are celebrated in very cordial terms. Writing from Boston, about the same time, she again alludes to the sickly looks of the haggard friends she has made in New England, and suggests that a cure may be found in the restoration of the law of primogeniture. "I should particularly dread any epidemic falling upon a people, which, as a general rule, looked so over-worked, and fragile, and thin, as these Northern Americans. Dr. Howe says it is climate; as yet I am incredulous upon this point. My friend, Mr. L, confessed he was almost in his grave when, eight years ago, he bought his pretty place. Now, with the revivifying influence of his farm and garden, (although he does not entirely give up his legal duties,) he looks as strong and healthy as any seagorean upon our side of the Atlantic. I should like to transplant all the sick dyspeptic men and women of New York and Boston into gardens and fields, before I will admit that this pleasant climate is to blame. I am rather inclined to assert that mental excitement, and money-making, and sedentary employments, are the real criminals, and that something is due to the laws of inheritance, even in this unentailing country." At Boston she begins to speculate on the subject of slavery, which she thinks "Christianity must and will subdue;" adding that "no individual selfishness, and no political intrigues can prevent the wished-for consummation;" and expresses her firm belief "that there are few, very few, even in the South, who will not hail with joy the moment of emancipation." These views she afterwards finds occasion to modify. On a journey made about this time to Mount Washington, the following comparison between New and Old England is drawn: "The difference between us appears to be that our higher classes have more principle, elegance and refinement; the women more energy and activity, and the men more athletic amusements; while our middle and lower classes are less highly educated, perhaps rather more narrow-minded, and physically work harder, although in some respects I think the Americans themselves are lower, particularly those occupied in manufactures and commercial affairs. The race and appearance of horses is an example which seems to be perfect as our most perfect; but the animals generally go better and are better fed than second and third-rate horses in England." At Niagara, Miss Murray, after having met with nothing but civility and kindness among the people of the United States, begins to experience treatment of another sort. She enters with a young lady a room in which she sits a circle of strangers from various places, not one of whom rises to offer her a chair, which "could not have occurred in the old country." At the same place, while engaged in sketching, she tells a hand familiarly laid on her shoulder, and is addressed in a strange voice, and turning round, finds that the liberty was taken by a perfect stranger, a young lady apparently but twenty, just arrived, who goes on to remark upon her sketch with the most perfect coolness. At another time the wish is expressed to her that "the old country might get thoroughly whipped during the present war." Thereupon Miss Murray sets it down in her tablet, not without some provocation, we admit, that "the Americans mistake rudeness for republicanism, and incivility for independence." "At Cleveland, she visited Dr. Kirtland, living in the neighborhood, who has obtained a name among pomologists, by the fine varieties of cherries and other fruits which he has succeeded in producing. Of him she says: "Dr. Kirtland has paid great attention to the improvements of fruits, particularly cherries, and he is a most scientific naturalist; his birds, stuffed and arranged by himself, excel those of Waterton; and the manner in which his entomological specimens are preserved is quite unique and admirable; they are in frames with glass behind and before, so that they can be observed on all sides, when held up to the light; while, being rendered impervious to air and unassailable to insects, they are indestructible. I am promised a specimen case, which will be an instance of the same kind." valuable example to collectors and museums in Europe. Dr. Kirtland was also so obliging as to give me numerous shells from the fresh waters of this district." At Albany, on November 6, Miss Murray becomes an inmate of Governor Seymour's house. It was in the midst of the election in which he was a second time candidate for the office of Governor of New York, and was beaten by his competitor, Myron C. Clark. Miss Seymour becomes interested in the election, admires the "calm indifference" of her host to the result, and his "freedom from weak ambition." Here she begins again to speculate on the slavery question, and comes to the conclusion that the emancipation of the black man has been prevented by checking the slave trade, observing that "If, when a sufficient number had been imported, their labor had been materially rendered of less value by the introduction of others, slavery would quickly have abolished itself; but anti-slavery laws checked the natural course of Providence." At Albany, she learns to like the American clergy. "One circumstance is to be observed, of the American Episcopalian clergymen—and, as far as I have been able to remark, the same thing may be said of the Presbyterian—that they all read well, without the nasal tone or the peculiar pronunciation of the Northeastern States. It is a pity that civilians, especially diplomatic men, do not imitate their clergy in this matter. I think the latter, as a body superior to ours. Among those whose churches I have attended, two ministers, educated and ordained upon our side of the Atlantic, both good men, were pompous and tedious in the reading-desk and pulpit. And we must confess that not many in England either read or preach in an attractive manner." With Governor Seymour's family she visits New York, and is domesticated with them in the St. Nicholas Hotel, the only fault she finds with which is, that its furniture is rather in the extreme of magnificence. On the fashionable society of New York she makes these reflections: "People here are not at all less exclusive than in London; only the differences." In rank and wealth are evinced by more minute and elaborate attention to dress, and to trifling conventionalities, than with us. I have been surprised to hear some men of business, but of wealth, assert that cultivation of the fine arts is a proof of national effeminacy! American ladies bestow those hours of leisure which English women of the same class give to drawing, to the study of nature, and to mental cultivation, almost wholly on personal adornment. Although it must be admitted, that owing to the bad training of their servants, ladies on this side the Atlantic are compelled to look closely into the details of domestic economy, yet it is odd that they are generally far less competent to the performances of every-day and sick-room duties than the daughters of our noblest houses in Great Britain; and so long as girls here devote a whole hour for every ten minutes allowed by us to the toilet, they have no right to make domestic affairs an excuse for want of general information. Of course, there are brilliant exceptions; but I fear the national character of woman in the United States more resembles that of self-indulgent Asiatics than of energetic Anglo-Saxons. And, as far as I can judge, their children are not being reared in better habits. Human nature is prone to extremes; and these facts explain why some individuals desirous of improvement have fallen into a mistaken imitation of manly character, instead of cultivating feminine duties. At New York she speculates a little on our political system, in which we have made, she thinks, some mistakes, and hopes "that a future generation will consider political rights as due to property, and the virtues of principle, independence and freedom from selfish motives, rather than to the mere fact of an individual having lived, and perhaps misused, twenty-one years of life." Of course a rich man from England should be allowed to vote immediately; a poor man never. In December Miss Murray proceeds southward. At Baltimore she finds the relation of mistress and servant to possess "a more agreeable aspect than At the North, where it is commonly characterized by complaints of annoyance on the one side, and a saucy indifference on the other. Here also she meets some southern ladies, "whose voices and manner of speaking are more refined and graceful" than those of the other States she had visited. Still, for me, as a stranger and a traveler, it is uncommonly pleasant." Smiffling an anecdote on the subject Alfred Smithsonian legacy, suggests to our tourist the idea that we want "healthier ideas on the subject of education, and an improved and more practical female training." She remarks: "In this country, I hear that 'though it has no queen, all the women are queens.' I should rather call them playthings; dolls; things treated as if they were unfit or unwilling to help themselves or others; and while we in England have nearly cast aside arts of the toilet worthy only of dolls, I see here false brows, false bloom, false hair, false everything! not always, but too frequently. Dress in America, as an almost general rule, is full of extravagance and artificiality; and, while women show such a want of reliance upon their native powers of pleasing, their influence in society will be more nominal than real." At Washington she meets with an interesting family, natives of New Orleans, who speak English with an accent; but Miss Murray prefers "our language a little broken to the broad and often nasal pronunciation of New England and New York." The Southern people have pleasing voices, and are much less provincial in their speech, than those of the Northern States." Another observation respecting the American women, between whom and the slaves the attention of Miss Murray seems to be quite different. To have been nearly equally divided, and we close the volume: "Before leaving the Reindeer steamer, if had some conversation with a sensible lady." From Chicago, who regretted the way in which the great majority of American young women are sacrificing health to vanity. She agrees that it is not so much climate as bad management which crowds the cemeteries with early victims. An idea has gone forth that fragility is interesting, and young ladies almost cultivate ill-health! She told me that standing at her own door one morning, she observed three girls between twelve and fourteen passing to school; it was damp weather, and these children were lightly and showily attired, with thin silk slippers, to set off their feet to advantage?instead of good substantial boots. These kinds of absurdities are common in the United States. I have found out a reason why ladies traveling alone must be extravagantly dressed; without that precaution, they meet with no attention and little civility?decidedly much less than in any other country. So here it is not as women but as ladies, they are to be cared for?and this in Democratic America! BELIGION AT THE WHITE HOUSE. A Washington correspondent of the New York Observer says: "The President has a habit already well known to the people here, that serves as a shield and help in this matter of labor. He is a Sabbath-keeping man." On the Lord's day, no company is admitted on any pretext, and no business done except that which may fairly come under the head of necessity and mercy. The clergy of the city tell me that Mr. Pierce is a church-going man, invariably being in his seat on the Sabbath, attending twice or three times a day, and carrying his early New England habits and predilections so far as to take pleasure in an evening religious meeting during the week, when he can find refuge in such a spot from the cares of the day. It is the misfortune of public men that their private habits must be made the theme of remark, that if the President were a man whose example was bad, there would be many. ay to proclaim it to the world; and as his life and conversation are such as the religious people of this country will rejoice in, it seems to be not only a propriety, but a duty, to say that social worship is maintained in his family by the President, and that the order of his household is such as becomes the chief Magistrate of a Christian people. The way world, of course, regrets the want of those splendid balls and parties which have in times past made the White House the headquarters of pleasure; but the circumstances of domestic sorrow under which the present family came into the mansion would forbid such scenes, did not their tastes and sympathies suggest other and more rational sources of enjoyment." On Temperance, he adds "The temperance people will be glad to know that the President of the United States is a total abstainer in medicine and practice." Sentlemen, who have dined with him frequently, assure me that he does not drink wine, nor anything but pure cold water, and his has been his custom for many years. It is so difficult to get at the truth on such a point, and such opposite statements have been made, that I am pleased to be able to lay this of the President on the best authority. Gen. Cass has been a temperance man in his life, and the hale and vigorous constitution he now possesses at seventy-three, shows that strong drink is not necessary to make or keep a man strong." Coming Up. - Papa, I planted some potatoes in our garden, said one of the smart roosters of this generation to his father. and what do you think came up? Why potatoes, of course. 'No sir? See! There came up a drove of logs and eat them all.' The man grinned. 