DIED -- In Livingston, Sumter County, Alabama, on the 4th day of September, JOHN GANO USTICK, in the 61st year of his age lie was born in Philadelphia, Pa., on the 34th January 1764, and officiated as editor of a newspaper in the Stale of Virginia for upwards of 37 years. During the whole of that period he was a firm, unflinching and unwavering supporter of what he conceived to be the true principles of genuine Republicanism. The writer of this feeble tribute to his memory has known him long and known him well, and he can truly say, that amid all the asperities of partisan warfare though differing with him politically, he never for a moment questioned his patriotism, and has never for a moment questioned hi patriotism and has ever believed that he advocated the doctrines of his party, from a firm and unshaken conviction, that they were the correct principles of good government. But it is not in this point of view alone that we wish to contemplate his character. For many years he was a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and it is as an advocate of that Religion, in comparison with which all other subject dwindle into insignificance, that we would wish to present him before his surviving friends and relatives. He was truly and emphatically a good man, an "honest man the noblest work of God." What higher eulogy can be pronounced on any human being. He died we conscientiously believe without an enemy, leaving behind him two Sons, four Daughters, and twenty Grand-children, to lament their loss. But they have the pleasing assurance that he died in the triumphs of the Christian faith, in the full hope of a glorious immortality beyond the grave. He Celt even in the agony of dissolution, the sweet solace held out by St. Paul to the Christian "that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands eternal in the Heavens." It was this that cheered, sustained and buoyed him up in that dark hour, when the immortal spirit about separating from its earthly Tabernacle, was on the eve of winging its way to the God that gave it. Peace to thy remains. Though the cold, cold turf conceals thee from our view, thine image is embalmed in the memory of surviving friends and relatives --
Sleep on and sweet be your sleep
And hushed be the requiem of sorrow,
Your star has gone down like the sun hid in storms
To arise in new glory to-morrow.
C.
