General Kearny entered the army in 1812 as lieutenant, and continued in it until his death—a period of more than thirty-six years. His character and bearing as an accomplished officer were unsurpassed, and challenge the admiration of his fellow citizens and the emulation of his professional brethren. His conquest of New Mexico and valuable services in California have inseparably connected his name with the future destiny of these territories, and it will be ever held in grateful remembrance by the successive generations which will inhabit these extensive regions of our confederacy.” He was buried in St. Louis by the 7th and 8th regiments of infantry and a squadron of that regiment of dragoons which he had made so famous, commanded by one of his favorite captains, the present Col. E. V. Sumner, of the 1st dragoons. All the city of St. Louis accompanied the cortège to pay their last tribute of respect to the general and the MAN. * * * * * I WILL BE A MINER TOO. BY MRS. JULIET H. L. CAMPBELL. All around me men are delving, Deep within the troubled earth, Searching for the darksome treasures Hidden since creation’s birth. Wearying toil and ceaseless effort Bring the buried ore to view;— Though I be but feeble woman, I will be a miner too! Heart of mine! thou art a cavern, Sad and silent, dark and deep— In thy fathomless recesses Spirit gnomes their treasures keep. Gems of love, and hope, and joyance, Bury there their flashing beam— Wilder passions fret their prison With the fierceness of their gleam. Though unburnished, prized and precious, To the enraptured poet’s sight, As the jewels, proudly flashing, On the brow of beauty bright. True, unto the sordid worldling These are gems of little worth, Yet, for thee, high-hearted poet! I will strive to bring them forth! Lamp of truth, my brow adorning, Lighting up the weary way— I, in pain, will probe my bosom, Bare its treasures to the day. Wearying toil and ceaseless effort Bring the buried ore to view;— Though I be but feeble woman, I will be a miner too! * * * * * THE EMIGRANT’S DAUGHTERS. BY GRETTA. I had but two; they were my only treasure, Two lovely daughters of the imperial isle; They gave my quiet hearth-stone every pleasure, They gave my lone heart every sunny smile, And to your land I brought them o’er the sea, To hear the tones which tell of Liberty!