University of South Carolina Libraries
* - - y- - y ;c"> .. '/ .. . " %:r:; - r- "y. . ;-- y. -.y ..., . , ' . "::r/ v -;. 'y ; :' . :;- '. -y/'- ' ." .'" '" ' v- >7;v 'V'?'C * ' ' '\ ' '' " Ay-'" " ' I ' '' - ' * Jfifcfk . . .' y * -/ :.,?.* . - , j s , . ; /'_ - j samVwMh^^^ An Independent Journal: For tlic Promotion of tlic Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. j lewis m. grist, publisher. VOL. 2. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MAY 1, 1856. NO. 18. #riptal.. ADDRESS OF HON. D. WALLACE, On the occasion of laying the Corner-Stone of the King's Mountain Military School, on the 22d of April, 1856. WousHiPFDL Master, Ladies and Gentlemen :? To trace the rise and progress of an institution, which is exerting au important influence upon the destiny of civil society, is ever a subject of grave aud interesting inquiry, to the historian, the statesman and the citizen. The human races,?the States and Empires of the world, are impelled to action, in the great drama of life, uuder the impulse of ideas It is ideas, then, which, uuder the sanctions of the laws of Divine Providence, shape and control the fortuues of mankind. The ceremonials which we have here assembled to witness, and in which each one of us is to act a pari, are but the result of ideas long since conceived, whatever may have been thci. source, and which have produced, and are now producing important results, in which the State has a deep and vital interest. * I deem this, therefore,an appropriate time and occasion, to write the history of the ideas and events, which have brought this assemblage together, and express the well founded hopes which this community has a ritrht to entertain and cherish, in re card to o ' their future effects upou its honor, dignity and happiness. Anterior to the year 1842, an annual appropriation of eight thousand dollars was made by the General Assembly of the State, to defray the expeuses of a corps of soldiers, whose duty it was to guard the public arms, in the Arsenal at Columbia; and the additional sum of sixteen thousaud dollars, to defray the expenses of another corps, to perform a like service, at the Citadel and Magazine, in and near the City of Charleston.? These two funds amounting together to the sum of twenty-four thousand dollars, were annually expended to protect the public property; and this purpose gained, its expenditure had no other effect upon the fortunes of the State. In December 1840, the Hon. John P. Richardson was elected Governor of South Carolina, and on the first of January 1842, he, upon his own responsibility, discharged these two military guards, and converted the Arsenal in Columbia, and the Citadel in 1 Charleston, into military schools; appointed '< corn-Detent instructors to suDerintcnd them. ' t * / , and expended the above named funds in ' defraying the expenses of each department ( of these schools; and at the same time, with- : out any additional expense, accomplished 1 the purposes of the law by requiring the : Cadets to perform the police duty before performed by the soldiers. And thus, while 1 this large item in the annual expenditure of the State was devoted to the great object of public instruction, the arms and public property were cs effectually guarded as they were under the old system. An important reform in the public administration, was thus accomplished; for, instead of expending this fund to support a band of soldiers, who unavoidably lived a life of demoralizing idleness, which is incompatible with a sound national policy, the Arsenal and Citadel were converted into schools of practical science, and the fund devoted to the great object of educating the young men of the State, and qualifying them for the important duties and responsibilities of citizens and they, in return for this providential care over them, performed the 1 guard duty before performed by the soldiers, s and without the loss, of any portion of the 1 time, which a proper attention to their studies required. These facts evolve another, which it is proper to bring to public notice. If the State .Miliary Academy were abolished to day by legislative enactment, the protection of the a public property would require the same ap propriation, to accomplish that purpose, that c was required at the beginning; and as the s public property has been greatly iucreased * within the last few years, the reason for ma- 1 king that appropriation would be proportion. ,J ably stronger now than then. It is an error then to suppose that a Cadet is educated grat- t uitously in the State Military Acadeipy, for i each one of them performs for the State a ] military service in guarding the public prop- < erty, which is an equivalent for the education t and support he roceives; but as the number i of Cadets in the institution is greater than i is required to guard the public property, \ the excess of this number are required to t pay their own expenses, and thus equal jus- i tice is meted out to the State on the one j lmn/1 ft rwl ? ?/ ! rtin r,? a Ail* AM II UiUJUj uuu DUC vuUCW UU LUC UlUCI. f I J Now, by assuming this appropriation and c the fourteen years which have elapsed since v the institution was founded, as a basis of j 'J calculation, it will appear, that by this sin-1 c gle act of wise statesmanship, Uov'r Kich- s ardson has already saved for the State, and j a devoted it to the great purpose of public in- ' c struction, the sum of three hundred and ! < thirty-six thousand dollars; and in half a j century, at the same rate of appropriation, i he will have saved and devoted to the same t noble object, the sum of one million two < hundred thousand dollars. This is the first t chapter of my history, but there is yet ano- ' ther which is brighter still. c At the commencement of the General As- 1 senibly in November, 1842 Governor Kich- j ardson, in his Annual Message, made known c to that body the policy he had pursued up- ^ oir the subject under consideration, and rc- j s commended that an act be passed making 'c that policy permanent. The Legislature, |1 asseutiug to the wisdom of his couusels aud i * acting upon his recommendation, on the ! 20th of December 1842, passed au act, "to s convert the Arsenal at Columbia aud the C'it- I adel and Magazine in aud near Charleston, i iuto Military Schools." c I have thus briefly stated the origin of this ) Cr'A -w * - . important institution, and will now as briefly sketch its history down to the present time. At the session of the Legislature before stated, Governor Richardson's term, of office expired, and his successor, Governor Hammond, in conformity to the requirement of the act referred to, appointed a Board of Visitors, to carry the act into effect. The Schools, one at Columbia, and one in Charleston, so constituted as to make one the organ of the other, were organized upou the basis of the Military Academy at "West Point; superintendents and professors were appointed, their salaries determined, and the infant enterprise, under the sanctions of the legislative authority, embarked upon its experiment. But like all untried and but imperfectly comprehended experiments, it encountered the opposition of popular incredulity aud prejudice, in a degree that rendered its perpetuity doubtful. The citizens of "Columbia presented the Arsenal Academy i.- xi. ~ T . * A 1.1* : i tu tuu jjggisiature as a puunc uuisuuui*, auu it required all the influence aud firmness of its friends to pilot the ship safely through the popular storm. But it survived the shock, and lives to day, a proud moument of the wisdom, patriotism and far seeing statesmanship of its founder, and of the benefaction of the Stfltc. As each year of its existence has passed away, its importance as an institution of 1 learning has become more and more apparent, and opposition and error have in like degree retired before the light of successful experiment, and wcll-fouuded public confidence. And the General Assembly of the State, participating in that confidence, have, with remarkable unanimity, augmented the appropriation for its support to the annual sum of thirty thousand dollars, which in 1 half a century will save to the people out I of the public treasury, to educate their < young men who are without the pecuniary 1 means to educate themselves, the sum of one 1 million and a half of dollars, the greater : portion of which, under the old regime, : would be utterly thrown away. The complete success of this important in- " stitution is now no longer doubtful. Tts A value to the State is felt and admitted ' throughout its borders, and far exceeds the ? most sauguine hopes of its founder. Such * is the public confidence in it at the present 1 time, that at each Annual Meeting of the * Board of Visitors, many applicants for ad- ^ mission are turned away for want of room 0 and means to accommodate them. On the ^ first day of January last, the number of Cadets in the four classes, was one hundred si ind eighty-one. Besides the large number v af young iiicu whom since its establishment if in 1842 it has materially aided, but who o did not graduate, from its list of graduates c it has already given to the country five Miu- ti isters of the Gospel; twenty-three Professors n aud Teachers in colleges and schools; twen- n ty Civil Engineers; fifteen Physicians; elev- h en Lawyers; nine Merchants, and nine u Planters, without taking into the estimate n those who are engaged in other honorable 3 pursuits, or the graduates of the last year, a who for high promise are surpassed by no c class heretofore given to the State; and five si have gone to their last rest and sleep iu hou- ii orable graves. Out of eight Superintend- i( cuts and Professors in the mother institu- o tion, four are its own graduate.;, brought up I md nurtured in its own bosom; and as gen- b tlemen of sterling worth, and high scientific o lttainraents, they may fear no contrast. And si aot the least pleasing part of the picture re- f< uains to be drawn. The life and character n )f each graduate have been uniformly mark- a: id by a high toned moral conduct, and a gen- ti Icmanly deportment, as gratifying to their 'amilics and friends as honorable to them- j, 1 it . i*. i* i i n. i XT. seives, me institution anu tne orate. x>o ]( 'ond father has been brought to lament over c she early wreck and ruin of a prodigal son,? ^ 10 heart-broken mother, to weep over the r( mtimely grave of her darling boy, stricken cj lown in the bright morning of his days, by ^ he remorseless wine cup. An institution,? p i method of instruction which evolves such SI :ffects, and sets before the rising generation >f men such a bright and hopeful example, sj hould surely arrest the attention of every w 'riend of his country. Of all its graduates, fc lot one has thus far failed to take high mor- 0j 11 rank among his species. Not one. w It is worthy of inquiry, what is the cause pi vhich produces such effects? The answer c( s, I think plain, and conclusive. The State ji Military Academy has solved a problem in tl iducatioual science, of the gravest impor- 1) ance, and which should stamp its lasting ft tupress upon the public mind. It proceeds tl lpon the proposition, that the wild horse is li vorthless to his owner, while he is permit- ni ed to give his mane to the wind, and speed si n wild wantonness over the pasture and sc )lain, unrestrained and unguided by the bit. tl [hat physical culture must precede mental ot ulturc, or go hand in hand with it, and in vithout the former, the latter is impossible, ir That human society demands that mere fan- li :y institutions of learning shall give place to m chools of practical science, in which men si ire to be educated and trained to a practical g< md and purpose, so that when the public ui ;;ood demands their services they may be ni ircpared to render them efficiently and un- a< lerstandingly. I Tore a great fact is added gi :o the sum of our positive knowledge,?a j li :lass of knowledge, which we so much need, sc n nnionrtinnfn onr? ml?-?<1 -? ^.1*ilI I*1 ,V vuiuuvi|y?uv, VUI luiuua 1IUIII lilt. 11 Al^UUCQS 11 *ropings. The bodies, as well as the minds st )f our youth, should be held, by the fundanental organism of our schools, in stern sub- g, ection to the law of obedience, the violation p, >f which expelled our first parents from ,.( Paradise, and under the curse of which we i n] till lie, with the darkness and gloom which n] :over us only brightened by the promise of V) leliverance upon the condition that we obey j, lereafter. ai When the fathers and mothersof the State w hall learn to enforce this law within the d >osoiu of their families, and to sustain the al nstructors of their children in doing it with- ol >ut one scruple of allowance, there will be ol Yell founded hopes for their sons and daught- h era, and they themselves will be saved the pains of many a bitter tear, shed over ruined hopes and blasted expectations. Upon premises like these, the State Military Academy proceeds, and hence the fortunate results which I have brought to your notice. It devolves upon me now, to present that institution to you in another deeply interesting phase; for the great idea upon which it was founded, and upon which it proceeds, has not yet accomplished its mission. I have given a hasty sketch of its origin and progress, and the effects it has produced within its own walls, i present it to you now as the propagandist of its method and purposes of instruction into other localities, and into the bosom of other communities; that the area of its usefulness may embrace a wider field; that, like the current, which augmented in volume by its tributaries and the rains of heaven overflows its banks, and pours its fertilizing and refreshing streams over the arid plains, it may make the sterile wastes of ignorance and self ruin fruitful, and enable those who thirst to drink freely of the waters of practical knowledge. From henceforth we may be encouraged to hope, it will be no more one, but twain, and we arc here to-day to ofiieiate at the baptismal font of its first born, and to bestow our blessing and encouragement' upon its offspring. Two of the distinguished graduates of the mother institution, iu whose names and at whose request I stand before you, acting upon the noble conception that since man is iloomcd to toil, lie can toil to no better purpose than the good of bis country, have come to your community, identified, for good or ill, as Providence shall determine, their lot with yours, and have founded an institution in your midst, for the benefit of your children, which in all its principles and methods of instruction, is identical with the nother institution, save in this only, that mother department of learning has been ulded. The kind reception you have given them, ?the liberal support and encouragement, vhich York and the surrounding Districts lave extended to them, while they are most gratifying to them, have evolved another act, not less pleasing, that the high estimate hey placed upon your public virtue and inelligeuce, before casting their lot with you, lid you no more than justice; for a system f instruction like this can live only in the losom of such a people. To such of you, if there be any such preent, who" believe the personal discipline rhich this method of instruction requires, ; too stern and exacting,?that the law of bedicncc to established authority is enforcd with a mind and will, which look with do little forbearance upon the wild waywardess of youth and young manhood?permit ic to say, the superintendents dare not re- 1 ix the inflexible requirements of that law, nder the penalty of total failure. Like the lothcr institution, the King's Mountain < lilitary Academy proceeds upon ideas that re based upon an established educational reed, and if any portion of that creed be 1 urrendcred in obedience to demands com- 1 jg from any quarter, from that hour its 1 lentity, vitality, cohesive power, and hopes 1 f future usefulness, will be forever lost.? 1 f the system of instruction be based, as I ' elieve it is, upon positive knowledge,?up- ' n a demonstrated problem of educational 1 :ience, the law of which must be sought i >r in the physical and mental organism of 1 inn, any departure from that basis involves n abandonment of truth, and the substitu- j on of error in its stead. j There is another fundamental principle 1 lvolved in this matter, which is often over- 1 >oked. All who enter the institution are < ntitled to the enjoyment of equal rights.? 1 aid as every act of disobedience has a di- 1 3ct tendency to diminish the value and efli- 1 icncy of the institution, and thereby to t ring the instructors themselves into disre- t ute, so every act of disobedience, however : nail, is a wrong not only to the faculty, but 1 ? nmrv r>otr/-in <>nil rmr>il nf iVin rinil ( mplc justice therefore requires that the i rongdocr shall be punished, not in revenge c ir the offence committed, but that similar I [Fences may be committed no more. Those c ho entrust their sons to the care of the su- c wintendents, thereby not only admit their i mfideuce in them, but also make them the r idges and administrators of justice between t mm; and to hold the scales of justice equal- i poised in their hands is au essential and c indanicntal article in the compact by which 1 ic school was established. To an audience c kc this I am sure it need not be said, that t 3 patron has a right to demand that a wrong c mil be perpetrated upon all, that his own f m may be permitted to violate the laws of f le institution, with impunity. May we not i: herwisc be permitted to hope, that this ( iethod of instruction and the objects it has i i view, sustained and approved by the pub- s c judgment, will yet expand into one, t iore enlarged and effective still, and which f Kill impress upon the minds of the rising 1 alteration the great truth, that the individ- s als of our race can ascend to their true dig- s ity and glory in the scale of being, only by i: :tiug in conformity to the moral and rcli- f ious responsibilities which the Author of 1 fe has unalterably associated with life it- a :lf, and that to this law they must conform, 1 they would avoid dishonor or avert deruction. I will not say, tliat popular education in outli Carolina has proved a failure. Few, owevcr, will deny the proposition, that the >sults produced by long continued, and ^ lost praiseworthy efforts, have not been com- ^ icnsuratc with the means so liberally de- c otcd to that end. Is it not time then, to ^ ivestigate the subject, and if possible, learn ^ ad make known the cause'( In announcing hat I believe to be the cause, I do so with 1 iihdcnce and well founded mistrust of my t bility to state it as clearly as the importance c F the subject requires. Both history and s bscrvation concur in teaching us that Ma- < oniedan and Pagan fathers and mothers i encounter as little difficulty, itr making their children Mahouiednns and idolators, as the fathers and mothers of our favored cliiue, in making their children Christians. The process in either case, is easy and natural.? The plastic minds of the young, ere sin has shed its blight upon the tender bloom of their spirits, and ere the world has profaned their hearts by its fatal delusions, make tlinm neeuliarlv suscentible of earlv imnros I J - 4 ^ J ?I sious, and the task easy to write the laws of the great Creator upon their hearts and consciences; and thus the very laws of our being point to the period of childhood and youth, as the proper hour to engraft upon their minds the great principles of the moral and religious responsibility, which should constitute the rule of their lives and conduct in maturer years. It is a lamentable truth, that as fathers and mothers we do not give sufficient heed to the weighty and all important obligation which the Divinity has imposed upon us in this matter, as the essential condition upon which our children are given to us. The destiny of immortal souls under 'feavcu is inourhauds. The responsibility is indeed a fearful one, and how will we auswer for our fidelity to this vital trust-, in the day when the Lord of the vineyard shall come, and demand of us an account of our stewardship? The fathers and mothers of the State, too often for its good blinded to these solemn and irrepealabie truths, (for " the Almighty never repeals anything,") by their loudness for their child permit him to travel on in the road of self-ruin, fatally believing that to make him high-toned he must roam over the fair face of nature wild and free, and that to restrain his passions will cup tne wings oi ins rising genius. U latai delusion ! Is it not indeed strange, that the warniug voice of Divine truth coines not in startling tones to both parent and child, " rejoice, 0young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes; but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment." It seems to me plain, therefore, that inasmuch as many of the early years of our sons and daughters are spent at school, the fundamental organism of our schools and colleges should be so constituted, as to incul- . cate in the minds of our children, as one of ! the essential objects of education and the < exalted sourceof their moral faith, a kniwl- . edge of the relations they bear, as "a conse quence of their being, to the Divine author j of all good; and that obedience to his moral law, and a dependence upon his providential ] guidance and protection, arc their only hopes j of happiness in this world, as well as that I which is to come. The cornerstones, then, j of our colleges and schools should be laid j nearer to the Dible, and the hearts and miuds of our children brought in closer communion 1 with the moral image of its author; for there is no way provided under Heaven, to i compensate a moral and responsible being, ^ for the absence of a good conscience, and a ^ well founded hope in Divine protection.? ] That in too many instances, these vital priii- 1 ciplcs, upon which t1 e true glory of our ^ commonwealth depends, havcbccn disregarded, cannot be denied and hence the cause of the evils we deplore. If the seeds of -j vice be permitted to grow and thrive in the I very hearts of our institutions of learning, S the people of the State must surely eat the g fruit of the tree they plant, though it be I watered with their tears. I It is too late in the worlds progress to expect to obtain the enlightened judgment of * mankind in favor of institutions of learning, y which profess to impart to their pupils a I knowledge of the whole encyclopedia of sci;uce and learning. Our knowledge upon , ;his subject is not speculative and conjectu- q *al merely; it is positive. We know they do lot succeed. In institutions of this kind, ,he term of pupilage is wholly inadequate 1 ;o the accomplishment of the desired end; 'I ind hence, under their administration, the ^ ew who by nature perhaps are studious, sue- ? ;ccd iu laying the foundation of a solid ed- 11 icatiou, upon which a structure may be rear- A id in after years, while a much greater numicr fail in their object, despairing it may be 1 if accomplishing a task so difficult and to ;j, irdinary capacities impossible. The knowl- t idgc of the human race, does not in this age ^ evolve altogether in a circle. It now and ^ lien takes a few slow and measured steps y ? i 1,1 n advance of its old beaten traeK, ana uius lachfyear, as it passes away, distills into the amps of our minds a little of the essential il of truth and experience, which makes hem shine with a brighter and purer ray up n our pathway. And even at this moment jj or the rising generation, a hopeful omen ap- ^ tears. Let theorists and transcendental Jo- 0 ;icians speculate as they may, this is a n Christian country; and Christianity de- s nands that schools shall be established, which a hall impart to our children a better moral *, raining, and inculcate a higher reverence ^ or Divine things; and an enlightened pub- j ic judgment, and the great interests of civil j, ocicty, demand, that schools of practical a cience shall be established, that our young c nen may be educated with a well defined ^ mrposc, and in direct reference to the cal- ^ ings they are to pursue, and the arts they v re to practice. The denominational col- n cgcs and schools of the State are a proper a 'csponsc to the first demand, and the King's f] douutain Military Academy is a proper one ^ r\ locjf o riil T thp flDnrAV.il _ u niw m.ji, ??'? ~r i ? g if my judgment. Whatever there be that a s wrong in each, we may be permitted to j, lope, time and experience will correct, while p )oth together, and each acting in its own pc- r :uliar sphere, I am persuaded, constitute by p ar the best system, that has yet been devised ^ jy the wisdom of man. v The King's Mountain Military School, is t lowcvcr the immediate subject of considcra- t ion. It has fairly embarked upon its great e ixperimeut, and its superintendents have been a lustained by an approving public opinion, so p lecided that the lathers of the community n lemand enlarged accommodations for their r sons. Obedient to the public voice, Messrs. Jenkins & Coward, the first to venture beyond the bounds of the fostering care and protection of the State, and to rely upon the enlightened judgment of private individuals to sustain them upon the merits of their cause,?the pioneers of a method of instruction, which takes alike the minds and bodies of its pupils captive, and makes both subservieuts to the great ends of moral worth and practical usefulness, propose to erect upon this spot a structure, which shall be commensurate with that demand and the vital interests involved; and to lay the cornerstone of that structure, is the purpose for which we arc here assembled. Worshipful Muster?Let the Cdrner Stone ho now laid;?and may the great Architect of the Universe vouchsafe, that upon that stone a structure shall arise, beautiful in its proportions, perfect in its strength, and gloriniiti in flm ilnciirnc fur irtiinli if in nrnnfnr} May wisdom and power from above guide the hands of the workmen, and protect them from all harm as en eh stone is laid. And may the interior of its walls become ahchool of virtue and wisdom, fortitude and truth, and so continue from age to age. May all who enter it as instructors govern with prudence and justice, and teach with wisdom and patience, and may each pupil know, that his first,?his last great lesson, is to " fear tjiid, and keep his commandments, for these include the whole duty of man." Select lilisccllam NO CROSS, NO CROWN. * [Wc give the following poem by Sheldon Chadwiek, extracted from his .volume of poems, just published, in the hope that it will not be unacceptable to our readers:?London illustrated Times."] 'Twas cveyand in a lowly room A student sat, in sombre gloom, Twirling his fingers in his hair, Like one in reverie ordespnir. Before him'.ay an open book ; Sadness was in his languid look; And as he traced the pages o'er Four golden words his spirit bore? No Cross, 110 Crown ! Around, in death-like silence, stood The forms of many great and good? Prophets, Martyrs crucified; Uprn Pnlriot<j ivbn for Frppflom ilipd 7 ~ 1 ' And Poets, who died desolate, Scanning the wondrous scroll of Fate. While glory round their foreheads shone, lie read upon their lips of stone? No Cross, no Crown ! Hard wus the toil, through learning's lore, For one so young and worldly poor. [lisbooks were precious, though but few; Vnd deathless fire from heaven he drew, [feart-wearicd oft, and overwrought, lie traced in throbbing lines his thought; Vnd 'ninid his toil this seemed to be Che voice alunc of destiny? No Cross, no Crown ! Sometimes his noble spirit turned rewards fame's pillar as it burned ; Vnd oft lie judged his efforts vain ro cross the burring bars of pain, le groaned in agonized distress ; dfe's cup was dashed with bitterness; Vnd then he thought of those of old, Vhocarved in brnss those words of gold,? No Cross, no Crown ! L'hey fought the battle, bore the Cross, ["hat truth might never suffer loss, tut, like the tcmpest-cradied flower, Spring through the storm?the martyr's dower? Souls that, while beaconing the free, Sank like a lighthouse in the sea ; lutfrom thoii"'graves a spirit came, Jttering words of winged flame,? No Cross, no Crown! lis soul sometimes would droop her wing, Vhen envious arrows sped the string; i Jut, like a trumpet's martial strains, lis country's voice thrilled through his veins; Lnd, heedless of the critic's ire, lis heart glowed with Immortal fire ; ind, like a man in earnest, he >n Thought's l'atmos toiled wearily,? No cross, no Crown! ind thus lie woke his spirit's strings , 'o Music's rare imaginings; 'o Love and Freedom, Truth and Right, ustice and Mercy, gods of lighl! j lh ! cheering fell those golden words fpou his worn heart's tender chords; 11 death those words his spirit bore, I .ml chants them still forevermorc? j No Cross, no Crown! his he the motto of the brave, nil this the watchword of the slave; he Patriot's, with the people's scorn; lie Martyr's, with his garland-thoru ; Hiocver seeks to win a name, ) i'hoever toils for Freedom's fame, Whoever human tears would dry, .et this forever be his cry,? 1 No Cross, no Crown! | ^ , VEGETABLE POISONS. ' BY MRS. LOUDON. i At this period, when so much attention ( as been directed to the subject of vegetable oisons, from the frequent deaths that have ( ccurred, I have thought that my readers 1 light be interested in learning which of the ( howy inhabitants of our English gardens 1 re most inimical to human life. Unfor- ? unatcly, there is nothing in the outward ap- ( earancc of these plants to indicate their 1 cadly nature. They are generally bright 1 a color, and sometimes very elegant in form; ? nd the greater part of them are common in 1 very flower-garden. Among these last may 1 c mentioned the Aconite, also called "\Volf3- 1 ane; or Monkshood, of which there are ? orious species, all ornamental. The com- 1 aon Monkshood is well known from the muscment children find in pinching the t owers, so as to make the curiously-folded i etals start from beneath the hood, like two 1 ;reat eyes.. These petals look like gigantic { nd crested stamens, and the hood, which ( 5 only a calyx, is generally supposed to be \ ornicd of the petals of the flower. The cal stems are, however, the centre of the f lower, and they surround a little group of i hree or five seed-vessels or follicles, which, j rhen ripe, burst open at the top to discharge i heir seeds. The leaves are deeply cut, and t he stem, which is tall and'upright, is thick- 1 ned at the bone, where it joins the root, so ' s to give it the appearance of celery ; and s iersons have been poisoned by eating it in i aistakc for that vegetable. The part of the ^ oot which is buried in the ground is also f thickened, and resembles horse-radish so much, that a party of friends dining together at Dingwall, in Scotland, were poisoned by the cook fancying it was a root of horseradish she was scraping, when she was, in fact, offering to her master's guests a deadly poison. There is nothing in the taste of this plant to warn the eater of it of his danger. It is slightly acrid, but not more so than many plants that are perfectly harmless.? The Aconite is very uearly allied to the Larkspur, which is also poisonous, the seeds acting as a violent emetic. The Anemone is another poisonous plant, from its acidity and its emetic qualities; and the juice of its leaves will raise blisters. This is also the case with various kinds of Clematis and Ranunculus. The juice of the common Bnttercup is extremely acrid, and the species with a creeping, fleshy root is a deadly poison to human beings, though pheasants seem to cat it with impunity, as its tubers have been found in the crops of birds that have beeu shot. The seeds of Peony will occasion symptoms resembling cholera, with violent sickness; and the juice of the Poppy is, as everybody knows, highly narcotic. Opium is prepared from the capsule, or seed-vessel, of the large White Poppy, which is cultivated for that purpose to a great extent in the East, particularly in Turkey, Persia, and some parts of India. The capsule of the Opium I'oppy is much larger and more fleshy than that of tho Com Poppy, and this fleshy substance is full of a milky juice, which hardens by exposure in the air into the kind of gum which we call opium. In countries where opium is cultivated as an article of commerce, the Poppies are grown in large fields, and planted in rows to enable the people to reach their heads easily. When the petals of the flowers have fallen, and while the Poppy-heads are yet green and full of juice, the cultivators of opium wound the capsules with a kind of lancet having two blades, so that iwo cuts are maue witn eacn stroxc. ?ne milky juice which exudes hardens in the course of the night, and is scraped off the next morning with a blunt knife, before the sun has had time to melt it. It is afterwards kneaded into cakes, and packed in leaves for sale. Laudanum is opium steeped in spirits of wine; and paregoric is laudanum with aniseed and camphor added to it; morphine is the sedative part of opium separated from its intoxicating quality. In England all Poppies are more or less narcotic, and of course poisonous; but the milky juice is not secreted in sufficient quantities to render it worth while to cultivate the Poppies for their opium. Nearly all the umbelliferous plants are poisonous in a wild state. Even Celery is only rendered wholesome by cultivation.? j Wild Chervil is also poisonous, but the cultivated kind is eaten in salads. Of all the j umbelliferous plants, Water Hemlock, or Cowbane, is, perhaps, the most deadly. It j grows in marshy land in several places in , the neighborhood of London; and, as it has j no bad smell, it is sometimes eaten by cows, j who die immediately. Children are also ^ frequently poisoned by chewing it. It is an ( acrid poison, ana destroys lite by burning ^ the coats of the stomach. Fool's Parsley is very dangerous, as it often comes up in gar- j dens with the other parsley?and when both , are quite young, it is not easy to tell the dif- j ference between them. When in flower, it is distinguished by two long beards hanging j from each flower, while the common parsley has none. But even when not iu flower, the , two kinds may be distinguished by the leaves ? of the Fool's Parsley being of a darker and j bluer greeu, and having a smell of garlic.? ^ Hemlock is also often mistaken for parsley. Water Parsuip is sometimes mistaken for j Skirret, the tubers of which are often eaten in Scotland under the name of Crumuiock. j rhc Water Parsnip, however, may be known j by its always growing in water, which the Skivret does not. The Water Dropwort is t still more dangerous from its strong resem- j blance to Celery; and this last plant is so j poisonous that many persons feel giddy only from smelling it.?London Newspaper. l A WOLF HUNT IN KANSAS. c A letter to the "St. Louis Republican" e from Palermo, Kansas Territory, says the t jold weather and deep snows have driven \ ;he wolves into the settlements to seek for * food, and the most pleasant and exciting ( pastime of the settlers is to give thera'chase. a Fhe writer then proceeds to give the follow- a ng account of a wolf hunt and the finding a )f a human skeleton in the cavity of a tree : t A few days since, while riding*in the rear g )f our town, in a small ravine through which i streainletrtakes its quiet way beneath its jrystal covering, and whose irrigation has p jroductu tall grasses and shrubs that makes v i hiding place for game, I came suddenly up- g m a large black wolf. He was scratching j, it a thin place in the ice, almost and seemed v janished for water. When die saw me he j started in full run for the forest in the river rntom. I kept upon his heels and tried to ^ ide upon him. He was almost exhausted, ^ ind just as I supposed he would give out, he u slipped into the hollow of a large cotton j vood tree. I stopped the hole through which he en- p ered, and came back to town and got an ixe and the dogs, and the assistance of n Frank Mahan and William Palmer, and to- s jether, we returned to cut him out. The t logs were anxious, and we were prepared vith our guns to receive him. t. When we had made a large hole, about u 'our feet from the ground, the dogs jumped t .A !l i.1 iV. A msslf AM AUa. II 11 UU U1U UUUjlUC UUU tllC VYU1I UU LLit: 1U- y lide, and such barking, growling snapping fc ind howling, I never heard before. It made ,he words resound for a great distance and ^ irought several of the neighbors to the spot. s rhings continued so for a while and we conlultcd what had best be done. We could 0 lot shoot the wolf through this opening^! vithout too great a risk of killing the dogs, or he only appeared at the inside when the c dogs were at the outside. We finally concluded to stop the hole that we had made, and fell the'tree by chopping a narrow gash all around it. The*troe came down a little sooner than we expected. Frank Mahan had the axe lifted for another, stroke, as it went over with a crash. The wolf, with bristled back and glaring eyes, and glittering teeth, leaped at his throat with terrible ferocity. The decending axe met it half way, cleaving its skull and laying it dead at his feet. We had no time to express our wonder finrl' rnnnrflfnlnt inni nf. Vila nnrrnw oml ainr/fi. c ? ~ " b~ Iar escape, before our attention was called to that which filled us with amazement, if not dread. It was a human skeleton, medinm size, and of a female, hidden in the cavity of llie tree. Its posture was erect, and the bones were held together by a kind of clear integument that' seemed to cover, like a transparent skin, the entire frame. The jar of the felled tree severed several of the joints, and wo drew them all out and placed them again in form. The proportions were perfect aud the limbs straight, indicating a contour, when in flesh, of perfect symmetry. Who could it have been that thus perished, - . years ago, in this wild forest? and how came her death in this strange place? were queries that were immediately suggested. Could it have been some maiden, who like the bride in "The Mistleto Bough," had concealed herself from her lover in the heart of this old tree, aud become fastened there and died ? Or, in escaping wild beasts, had climbed in this close retreat, whence she could not extricate herself? These were natural sug gestions, for the skeleton fitted close in the. cavity and seemed to have been fastened there. IIow many years ago this frame possessed vitality, and how many years it had inhabited this.^time-worn, storm-wroughttenement, and how it came there, and to what race it once belonged, will remain a mystery until the universal revelation. ? . WHY I LOVE THEE. Dost thou ask me why I love thee ? . Ask the sunbeam why it shines, Ask the blossom why it opens, Ask the woodbine why it twines: And the sunbeam will make answer, " In the dark I cannot stay, - , When the morning winds are calling With the birds sweet roundelay *.' And the blossom will make answer, " Still and lone I cannot dwell, ' ^ Selfishly my odors nursing In their narrow, folded cell And the woodbine will make answer, "Ah 1 I cannot live-alone, So I lean upon the poplar, And his strength is now my own." r. A BEVOLUTIONABY INCIDENT. The second volume of Irving's Life of Washington has just been published. From ' ' it we cull the following anecdote. At the time Gen. Washington had his headquarters in Cambridge: "A large party of Virginia riflemen, who # had. recently arrived in camp, were strolling ibout Cambridge, and viewing the collegiate buildings, now turned into barracks. There half-Indian equipments and fringed'and ruf Bed hunting garbs provoked the merriment )f some troops from Marblehead, chiefly Bshormen and sailors, who thought nothing equal to the ronnd jacket and trowsers. A bantering ensured between them. There was snow upon the ground, and snowballs began to fly when jokes were wanting. The parties waxed warm with the contest. They iiosed and came to blows; both sides were reinforced, and in a little while at least . i thousand were at fisticuffs,' and there was l tumult in the camp worthy of the days of Somer. 'At this juncture,' writes our inormant. 'Washington made his appearance, vhether by accident or design I never knew.' [ saw none of his aids with him; his black iervant was just behind him mounted, rle threw the bridle of his own horse into lis servant's hands, sprang from his seat, ushed into the thickest of the melee, seized wo tall, brawny riflemen by the throat, keep Jl .i A 1. ii^ Liicui at uiiu a icugbu^uii&iug to auu puun.* ng them.' "As they were from his own province, he nay have felt peculiarly responsible for their ;ood conduct; they were engaged, too, in me of those sectional brawls which were his (special abhorrence; his reprimand must, herefore, have been a vehement one. He . riis commanding in his serenest moments, >ut irresistible in bis bursts of indignation. )n the present occasion, we are told, his ppearance and strong-handed rebuke pat "* .n instant end to the tumult. The combat.nts dispersed in all directions, and in less han three mimutes none remained on the ;round but the two he had collared." Take a Paper for your Wife.?A riend says an exchange not long since, told is a good story in relation to one of our subcribers, which contains a good moral for msbands, aud also furnishes an example for rives which is not unworthy of imitation unler similar circumstances: The subscribes referred to, says our friend, a the presence of his wife, said that it had een his intention to call at the office, pay id his arrears, and discontinue his naDer.? * ' * lis wife very prompty asked : "Why do you intend to discontinue the aper ?" "Because," said the husband, "I am so such away from home on business, and have o little time to read, there seems to be lit* le use in taking a paper." "Yes," replied she, "it may be of little use o you, but it is of great use to me. I reaain at home while you are gone. I wish o know what is going on in this world. If ou discontinue the paper, I will go straight o town and subscribe Htyself." As the papyf has not been discontinued, ?e suppose the wife's reasoning was eoncluive. . The moral of his incident must net be yerlooked. I?" You will never have a friend, if yott oust have one without a failing.