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. v ' -' k ^ * - *u * ' . . . f _ , !FV T t > .>>.. *,-T* '* > - - xv . * ^9 ^ + &? ? "< ./C " "* *S# ? J " . *l > *.' ?. , . ? . V > ii i i i ? b 1 - ?? i | 3?1 jj?j?????^B85j : ????-? ?. , ? samxLwMmeit6n, | Propnetora. An independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. j lewis m. grist, pabiuher. | VOL. 2. YORKVILLE, S. C., THTJBSDAY, NOYEMBEB 2Q,1856. dSTQ. 47. %jlton. j ADVEMTRE IX A GAM1XG HOUSE. It was in the Spring of 18?that I found myself gliding upon the waters of the migh- j ty Mississippi, and bound for the Crescent City, New Orleans. With a single exception, I had formed no : travelling acquaintances on board the boat, although I had been nearly two days upon my journey which was becoming somewhat monotonous. The individual with whom I, singularly enough, fraternized, seemed, like myself, to have but little inclination to ex ^nrJ Kio nr?minint?n?fi amon<r the nassenerers. """ """1"" O I O '| though he seemed to be constantly upon the ! lookout for some one, and from the close manner in which he regarded the operations of two or three individuals, whose profuse > display of vest chains and jewelry, and proficiency with cards at the tables in the saloon, "betrayed their profession, I more than once eet him down as some sort of a police detective in disguise. He called himself George Thorn, of Kentucky; so his card read, which he gave me in exchange for mine. In truth he was a noble specimen of the Buckeye State. Full six feet in height, a clear intelligent blue eye, broad forehead, and light curly hair, muscular arms, and the chest of a Hercules, he challenged the admiration of more than one of the passengers, as, with his serious and never smiling face, he paced the promenade deck, or sat apparently buried in thought in the soloon. "Do you never play at cards ?" said I to him, as he left a group that were standing about a table of four players, and noting the progress of the game. I had frequently seen him invited, but he invariably, like luyseir, refused to participate in the gauie. "Oh, yes," said he, "but where is the use of playing here; those fellows (nodding to1 wards the players) can tell every card in the pack by the backs, and they are trying hard to pluck some poor pigeon from among the passengers, but with indiffereut success; beware of them, sir." I thanked him for his friendly warning, and at the same time expressed my astonishment at his affirmation. To convince me of the truth of it-, he called the steward of the boat, and ordered him to bring him a fresh pack of cards, which were brought, and he handed the pack to me, bidding me to shuffle them. I did so, when he immediately selected nearly every ace and king from the pack without looking-ct the face of them. Next he dealt them in two parcels, one to mc and one to himself, when, upon examination, I found that the cards of real value in the game wero in his hand, and I could not detect the least unfairness as he dealt them. "You see," said he, smilingly, at my look of astonishment, "the advantage an expert in these matters has over even a skilful player." "I do, indeed," replied I, astonished at my fellow traveller's dexterity, and begin-! uing to think he might be a reformed gambler, or "playing possum" for some purpose or other; but, as he did not urge or even in- j vile me to play, nor had played with anyone else, and threw the cards aside with an expression of disgust too natural to be assumed, I came to the conclusion that my auspicious ~ were unjust, and my traveling acquaintance was a riddle yet to be solved. Early the next morning the boat arrived at New Orleans, and, amid the hurry and bustle of debarkation, I lost my friend the Kentuckian, noteven seeing him to bid adieu. That same evening, however, after visiting the theatre, I was enjoying the cool air and a fragrant Havana, in the rotunda of the St. Charles Hotel, and conversing with a friend from the North, whom I had fortunately met, when whom should I encounter but my steamboat acquaintance ? After the usual greeting, our conversation turned upon our trip down the river, our fellow passengers, &c., when my fellow traveller remarked that if I would like to witness the interior of a gambling house, or "hell," as it is sometimes more appropriately called, ! he would be pleased to show it to us as one of the sights or "lions" of the citv. Never | having wituessed anything of the kind, both j I and ray friend assented, and after a short1 walk, found ourselves within the precincts j of oneof those glittering aud gorgeously furnished establishments?vestibules to the in fernal regions?where men are engaged iu ! various games of hazard. The interior ?rf a gambling house has beeu a _ _ a!_ 1 ?1- 1- 1 . 1 too ircfjucnnj uescrioeu to neeu repeuuou. ; The Faro Bank with its crowd of betters, ! the Rouge et JSvir table with its anxious ! circle, and groups of players at other games ; of which I was ignoraut of the name, were 1 all busily engaged as we entered. We had passed through two apartments, and reached a third, jn wh'ck were but four players, j playing in pairs a* different tables. As we j entered, we sac down at an unoccupied table j for a moment, when, as we did so, we heard one of the two men nearest us say to his oppoueut? "That's the last dollar; luck is yours, and I'm cleaned out." "But you wear a good ring," said Lis opponent. "Sec ! I will give you a chance for revenge. I'll back my ring against yours on the next game. It's a ring I won at play from a Kentucky boy that came to New Orleans to see the sights," said he carelessly. IIow little did he know those words, so ! lightly spoken, had sealed his doom. "No!" said his opponent, rising, I'll meet you to morrow night. I won't pledge ray jewelry yet." As the player, who was sitting with his back partially turned towards us, mcutioned Kentucky in his conversation, I saw Thorn j listen with eagerness, and as he twisted the J ring he offered to bet upou his finger, I saw the Kentuckian turn deadly pale, llis eyes glowed like fire for an instant, then his countenance again resumed its usual calm and placid look?and, to our amazement, he rose, and walked across the apartment to the player, who had just been left by his companion, courteously proposed to try a hand or two with him if agreeable, and if we, his friends, would excuse him for a short time. Of course we assented?so did the gambler, who appeared at lirst somewhat surprised at the proposition, but probably resolved to try his skill upon the new comer. The cards were dealt, and the game proceeded. We were sufficiently near to see that the piece of gold which constituted the first stake was won by our friends opponent; so, also, was the second. The third stake Thorn gained. And thus they went on al ternately winning and losing, till.at last Thorn carelessly observed: "That's a pretty ring you offered to bet a while ago, stranger. Will you sell it?" "Well, as to that," said the other, "it's pretty enough, and costs me enough?for a young fellow pledged it to me some three years ago as a sort of note of hand, which he promised to redeem with five hundred dollars that he owed me?a debt of honor, sir ?but he never paid it; so I retain the ring. Xo, stranger, I guess I won't sell it." "But the owner ? You should have made him pay; five hundred dollars is a dear price for such a bauble." "Why, as to that," said the player, as he gathered up his cards for the next hand, "he couldn't come to time very well, for he 'paid the debt of nature,' as they say, the same Dight, and that cancelled my obligation. Ah! the stake's mine?there's always luck in this ring, sir, 1 believe," said he, as he drew the money towards him ; "suppose we try a larger stake;" and he prepared to shuffle the cards again. "As you like," said Thorn. "Well, what shall it be." said his opponent, "anything from one to five hundred ?" and he threw a bank note of that denomination carelessly, as if in bravado, upon the tabic. To our surprise Thorn drew a wallet from his pocket, and produced au equal amount of money, theu sweeping the cards they had been using from the table to the floor, he ; called for a fresh pack, and passing them, as the attendant brought them to him rapidly through his hand, he gave them to his adversary. remarking to hiui as he did so, to "mind his deal this time," fixing upon him a searching glance as lie went through that operation. The game was that known as ' "bluff," or "poker," I know not which, but I at any rate one on which the players bet upon the cards they hold. Thorn and his op- 1 ponent having each glanced at their cards, 1 commenced the game. i "I'll go you one hundred," said Thorn, ' commencing. < "Two hundred better than that," said his opponent. < "Another hundred," continued Thorn. '< "H'm'm ! three hundred better/" said 1 the gambler, producing the notes from his pocket book. "Three hundred more," said Thorn, quietly. The game was getting exciting to us as ; spectators; three thousand dollars lay upon the table to be decided by the cards held by the players, each of whom seemed from his bets to be confident of success, though their countenances betrayed not the least emotiou. "One hundred more," said the gambler, again. "I call you," said Thorn. "Ah / thrrr h-ini/s and an ace /" said the c V? n v?v\r.?? f finmr\T^ontlv o..aM,C., n.uuifuuiiuj. "Three aces and a king !" said Thorn, quietly, as he displayed his own cards, and with his eyes fixed steadily upon his opponent folded up the money and crammed it into his pocket. "Fortune favors you," said the gambler, stoically, too well schooled to betray any emotion or chagrin at the result. "So it seems," said the other. "But T hope to meet you again, sir; for I must have my revenge after so heavy a run of luck as this," said Thorn's opponent; "and I have no doubt you friends will join us in a social sit-down, for if you are as good at cracking a bottle, singing a song, or telling a story, as holding a hand at cards, those who are your friends are fortunate." "I must confess," said Thorn, "that Tarn uot of a couvivial or musical turn, though I can occasionally tell a good story. 1 have a little history now, sir, upon my tongue's end, that will be of uncommon interest to you." "To me ! Pray tell it," said the gamester, with a laugh. "It will be a good wind-up ; for the evening's entertainment." It was now long past midnight; absorbed in the excitement of the game, we had scarcely noticed the flight of time, or that the adjoining rooms were now nearly deserted by their occupants, and that the two other players, at the other end of the apartment in which we were, had finished their own game long since, and been spectators of that be tween Thorn and his opponent, ana were now apparently interested listeners. "About three years since," began Thorn, a young man iu Kentucky, the confidential agent of a large business (inn, was entrusted with a sum of money and commissioned to transact some business in New Orleans; it was his first visit to that city. He started , happy, leaving behind him a young wife and lovely infant Unfortunately upon one of the Mississippi boats, or immediately upon his arrival in New Orleans, he fell in with a . professional man?a man of }4av, 1 mean ?you understand?" , The gambler nodded, and Thorn continu- i ed: I "By the management of this 'professional/ the young man was enticed to a 'hell/' 1 induced to play, plied with wine, stripped of i his money?in short, to use a 'professional' 1 word, 'plucked'?" '< "Ila ! ha 1 the old story,"said the gambler, i "the fate of pigeons." < "But I have not finished; that which most < interests you is yet to come." 1 % <'Indeed ! Go on." ( "The young man was perfectly sobered by j his loss; he returned to his hotel; stang with j remorse aud half crazy with excitement, he !) placed a pistol to his head and blew out his ! t brains, leaving a tarnished uame ns an inheri- i c tance for his wife aud inuoceut child." | ( "Uut what is all this to me," said the I gambler, now pale as ashes beneath the flash- 1 ing eye of the speaker; "is it a moral lesson t you're about to read hero, or a sermon you ( have to preaclr?" 1 "What is it to you !" continued Thorn, | his voice quivering with excitement. "Ah! a I'll tell you what it is to you. This meeting j of you and me to night, which for three long t years I have sought, is not mere chance.? i The hand of Heaven is in it. 'Twas three 1 years ago this very night, ay, this very hour," t said he, glancing at his watch, "that the t young man I spoke of rushed madly into t eternity?not by his own hand, but his op- t poncnt at the card table is he that should be c nopountahle for that deed of blood?the a- \ mount of money he lost was just the amount r I have won this night from you?that very s ring vj)on your finger is hisl I am iits Brother, and you are nis Assassin !" 1 Thorn pronunccd these words in n firm, p clear, ringing voice, and as he concluded, t brought his hand down with a blow upon the a table at which they were sitting, which was t instantly overturned, as he aud his opponent f started simultaneously to their feet. They a were scarcely six paces apart after springing s from their chairs, and both drew their wea- t pons as they rose. p "Die! liar !" shouted the gambler, dis- r charging his weapon the moment he gained 1 his feet. The bullet ripped open Thorn's e waistcoat, and his watch flew iu fragments t from the pocket, dangling by its chain ; at o the same moment his arm, which was slowly i: rising, became rigid as that of a statue?the d pistol he held exploded, and the gambler fell i back a corpse upon the carpet. This all b passed so suddenly, ere we could iuterfcrc, o that we stood as if almost paralyzed for an t instant, while the servants, alarmed by the i noise, and the police, came rushing into the t apartment. c Thorn quietly surrendered himself, mere- t ly turning to us and the other two who were e in the room, saying, as lie did so, "uenue- t men, bear wituess I fired in self defi'cnce, and that I received that villain's first fire b here and he pointed to his shattered watch z with a smile, and turning, left the room with i\ the officers. h lie was tried and acquitted, as it was clear- v ly proved that his adversary fired upon him ii Brst. The fact of the gambler being a note- v rious rascal, whom the community could well t tfford to spare, might have had some influ- t ?nee with the jury. ii I have never met Thorn since, but the re- t collection of that fearful scene is yet fresh o md vivid in my mind, though many years p have passed siuce it was enacted. t - , b Select At tailing. ;; REFLECTIONS. u Why should one man harm another? p Is not inan to man a brother ? Strength was given to the strong Mot lor purposes of wrong, But to heln the weak along. a a Why should F.nvy move the breast Whin a neighbor seomcth blest J (lifts that from high Heaven are shed, 11 Though they fall not on our head, s Bedeck the ground ou which we tread. o J. Why should Pride our thoughts engage ? t! "All the world is bnt a stage"? r Brief the most applauding call; And up..;i the great and small r' Drops the curtain, like a pall. j r rJ Why should Hate our breasts excite? Doing wrong ne'er serves the right; *' Hearts that on brooding malice feed p Ope their own pores and bid them bleed? q Die bv their own mistaken deed. jj; Wliv should Seniul.o.1 ninvc the tontrue ? n Falsehood's old, but Truth is young ! l Mischief?witch of darker time? Trails along in filth and slime, H But angel Love is all sublime. t: ii Why should Bigotry defy The opening of the mental eye? He serves the wrong who fears the right; t< God hath said?"Let there be light!" The suu doth ever chase the night. ^ a ... OM PRINTING TYPE. c "We find, in the American Publishers' s Circular, the following description of the various processes which are gone through in ^ the manufacturing of printing type : The letters, Ac., are first cut upon a steel j n punch. This requires great skill. The' ? characters are oftentimes extremely minute, ' and every pains is taken to procure not only i , individual beauty but general uniformity.? j, Not only letters, but figures, signs and orna- j nieuts, in endless varieties, are thus cut.? i ? i 1 i< There arc, also, spaces used to separate words. Quadrates, which are larger than j spaces, separate sentences, and in general | occupy the positiou among type that is rep-! ' resented by the uupriuted parts, both spaces ? and quadrates being shorter than type. In ' a full font of type there are about oOO dif- j ferent characters. The cost of the separate i a punches varies from ?2 to ?o0. After the j ^ punch has been cut it is indented to a cer- j tain depth into a block of copper; this is I P called the matrix. Klectrotyping has of ia late years been used for the purpose of ob taining matrices from the typo itself, by , which means type founders are enabled to j avail themselves of each other's labor.? j " Business morality is of a most elastic quali- 1 a' ??-.?! if vrmil/l Kn ii ticolocc n vnnnrl i tn f n nf I ij, a.,u .v nvu.u ... uc6?? | time to question the propriety of the prac- f( tice. j tc An apparatus, denominated the mould, is : fi used for forming the body of the type, and h to this mould, which answers for all the types of a font, the different matrices are u adjusted as required. lie who adjusts the a1 matrices to the.moulds is called a justifier, b< Dr more commonly a fitter. All the types ai )f a font are of the same length and depth, 2i thought the letters upon them yary in their tl liraensions. The mould is so constructed is to admit of the width being altered to mit the letters to be cast; thus the letter I, vhich is very narrow, is upon the body of a ype, the perpendicular face of which is pre:iscly the same as that of the letter W, sev:ral times as wide. It is necessary that the )odies of types should also have all their ines at exact right angles; without this they vould not stand in a line, and would consequently be useless. If the types varied in leight, they would not give a perfect imjression, in endeavoring to obtain which, lome would be subjected to an injurious )res8ure. A few tyjjcs ? portion of he face letter projecting over the body, as u the letter f; this projection is called the cern, and in combination with other letters he projecting part generally extends over he next letter, as in fc. In those combina ono wVincnm tVio lr A*n a i ri nnn lumoj n uuitiu iuu aviu nvuiu xu vvn act with another letter, compound types arc ast, as in the case of ff, fi, fl, ffi, ffi. Some ears since, these combinations, wore much nore numerous, but many have been dispened with by altering the form of the letter. The next operation is that of casting.? [he old method, of which is fcven to the iresent time generally used in England, may ie thus described : The matrix having been djusted to the mould, is taken by the caser in his left hand. At his right, upon a urnace is a pot of molten metal. This mct1 he dins out in suitable quantities with a mall ladle, and pours into the mould, at itues giving a quick upward jerk, for the lurpose of forcing the metal well into the natrix, to give the type a good face. A V spring which holds the matrix in its propr position is tlieu removed; the matrix is hen pried out from off the type, the mould opened, and the type thrown out. By this nethod an average of about 4,000 types per lay cou be cast by oue man. An important i improvement was made in 1814, by Archi ald Binney, of Philadelphia, whereby, with ne motion of the hand, the matrix was hrown out and the mould opened. This uvention increased the rapidity with which ypes were cast at least 50 per cent. Type asters acquired great expertness, and with he hand moulds were enabled to cast with xtraordinary rapidity, but only for a short ime. In 1828, the casting machine was patented y William M. Johnson, an ingenious citicn of New York, and put in opcratien in Ir. White's foundrv. since which time it ias been greatly improved. By this contrianc-c, a pump inserted in the molten metal njects the requisite quantity into the mould, rhieh is brought sharply into contact with he piston ; the mould then comes off from he pump, opens anil discharges the type I ato a box. Tn type foundries, generally, his machine is worked by hand; but in the ne we had the pleasure of examining, steam mwer is successfully applied. At least hree times the number of type can be cast y* the machine than by the ordinary hand aould, and a velocity of 200 revolutions per ninute, (each revolution forming oue type) ias occasionally been obtained, though the dual results are by no means to be based ipon that fact. Various causes operate to irevent a long continuance of such speed. The type, after being discharged from the nould has a piece of metal, called the jet, ttached to the bottom; this is broken off by boy, called a breaker, and the singular wiftness of all his motions i9 truly astonishDg. Smart lads or girls, who have had ufficient experience, perform all these opeations with such rapidity, as to pain the eye hat observes them. The jets having been emoved, the types are taken to another oom, where boys and girls are engaged in ubbing off the inequalities upon the sides, .'his is effected by bringing the type in conact with a smooth stone, prepared for the urpose, and moving it frotn side to side ? 'he rubbers generally smooth several at the amc time. Those letters which are kerned s before described, cannot be wholly rubied upon a flat surface, and they are conseuently filed smooth by an ingenious conrivance, which prevents the kern from beng injured. After this operation, the types are set j hiwii lijc lauca uunuuaiu^ au u vvuilosing stick eight inches long, and thence re transfered to the setting stick which is nc yard in length. Those who do this are ailed setters. The dresser now takes the etting stick, and placing the line of type pon a flat surface, tightens it with a screw; hen, with a piece of steel having sharp anles, he rubs off the edges, turning the line f type for that purpose. They are then laeed, face downwards, in a vice, and the rcsscr, with a plane, cuts a small groove in he end, over the place from which the jet as been removed. lie now carefully cxniines the face with a magnifying glass, rescting all such as are in the least imperfect, .'he perfect types are now formed, and they re placed together, side by side, upon a mall board with a frame on three edges, util there is a page. The page is uniform 3 size being 6 by 41 inches. A cord is then rawn several times tightly around the page, nd is wrapped up in paper ready for the rinter. Type metal is-readily fusible, and is comosed of antimony, tin aud lead. These re used in various proportions, according to ac size of the letter and the degree of clascity required. Lately, a process, by which le face of the type is coated with copper, 3ereby increasing its durability, has been dopted to a considerable extent. Until withiu a few years there were but iw varieties of type in use?now they are ) be counted by hundreds. They are cast *om the most minute size up to large blocks aving a surface face of IC square inches. Of Diamond type, (the smallest size in * sc) 201 lines measure 12 inches. Of an ' rcraged sized Diamond letter 81,274 may i e impressed on a surface of one squnre foot; i id there are Diamond spaces so small that 1 [)3,187 will go to a square foot, or 1,411 to le square inch; and of these about 6,200 ! are obtained from one pound of metal. The largest letter regularly supplied by type founders is called twelve line pica; these are two inches on the perpendicular face, varying in width with the letter. The larger sizes that we see on showbills, &c., are cut in wood. fl^No poet has written sweeter lines on such a delightful theme than has Montgomery on Home? There i8 a land, of every land the pride, Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside; Where brighter suns dispense serener light, And milder moons emparadise the night ; Time-tutored age, and love-ezaltod youth: The wandering mariner, whose eye explores The wealthiest isles, the most enchanted shores, Views not a realm so bountiful and fair, Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air; in cvurj' uuuie nic uiuguci ui ill 3 boui, Toucheil by remembrance, trembles to that pole; For in this land of Heaven's peculiar grace, The heritage of nature's noblest race, There is a spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest. Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride, While in his softened looks benignly blend The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend ; Here woman reigns, the mother, daughter, wife, Strew with fresh flowers the nnrrow way of life ! In the clear heaven of her delightful eye, An angel-guard of loves and graces lie, Around her knees domestic duties meet, And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet, Where shnll that land, that spot of earth be found? Art thou a man ??a patriot?look around ; 0, thou sbalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, That land thy country, and that spot thy home! "Tiie Worst Wheel Makes the most Noise."?Never was maxiui truer than this. Look at that woman, who is always usiDg hard words?who looks upon the gayeties of society with an abstracted air, and wonders that any body, who has any mind, can fix their attention upon trifling games and frivolous conversation. Depend upon it, she wouid. not need to act this farce, if sue had real intelligence and imforma'tion. She is 'the worst wheel in the carriage and she makes the most noise.' Look at that benevolent bustler, with his eternal schemes, all 'excellence for the poor.' Thousands, of whom you never will hear, do more good than he. 'He is the noisiest wheel.' Look at the politician, whose days and nights are consumed in anxious cares for the good of 'the people,' 'the dear people/ the i injured people,'?whose tongue is worn thin with abuse of the aristocracy, and warnings against their monstrous thirst of power. Have an eye to that man?he will play the cyrant where he can?his democracy is all put on. He is 'the worst wheel in the carriage.' Look at the lover, kneeling, and sighing, and flattering?his eternal constancy will last but a few months. He too 'is a noisy wheel.' See the religionist, for whom even the Old Testament is not sufficiently holy reading,? who is always telling the wonderful states of his own miud, for the good of others,? whose sleep is disturbed by the idea that ships sail on Sunday. What do you think that man is, when the eye of the world is not on him ? 'The worst wheel in the carriage makes the most noise.' He not too eager to help those who come to you with highly colored pictures of distress, and loud complaints of discouraged industry. The most virtuous among the poor stay at home, and silently struggle with their poverty so long as it can be struggled with. The worst wheels are ever the noisiest. Look suspiciously upon those publications, that are continually boasting of 'unparallcl- i ed success,?immense number of subscribers,' of being 'eargerly sought for by all classes of people !' Really good publications i do not need such practices. If the regiment | were already collected, they would not sound the trumpet so loudly. The worst wheel is the noisiest, simply because it is the worst, i ()bscrve that lady, who is so eager in pursuit of the fashions, that her servant must run with his band-box, lest fashion should i out-speed him. She cannot endure the i sight of vulgarity, and tells you she thinks 1 it extremely unlady-like to know what one i is to have for dinner. She uses cologne at < the mention of a mechanic; and apologises i to you again and again for having any un- < fashionably dressed person of merit in her rooms. Why docs she talk so much about gentility and rank ? Her father was a bricklayer and her husband was once a mason.? , She is a fool herself; and therefore she sup- < poses others are fools. 'The worst wheel is always the noisiest.' i Lastly, do not judge of a carriage by its | noisiest wheel. All the intelligent should j uot be judged ot by tbe pedant: an repun:i- ] cans ought uot to be classed with the dema- < gogue; every religionist is not a hypocrite; , and a few proud and silly women must not ] condemn the whole world of fashion. When j you hear a very noisy wheel, remember it is 1 the worst wheel. 1 Tiie Present Condition of the Jews. < ?At the present moment a Jew stands at i the head of nearly every walk in life through- { out Europe. The Eothschilds command the ^ money market of the old world. M. Fould, ^ Louis Napoleon's finance minister is a Jew. t D'lsreali, a Jew leads the House of Com- j mons; a Jew is Lord Mryor of London; in Germany half a dozen of the most distingushed professors are Jews; the great Neander himself was one of them, and Mendelssohn who was the envy of Goethe for his power of language. In Spain, men of this nation have, in former days, as professed Jesuits, while secretly retaining their own faith obtained direction even of the Inqusition. In fact, there are few heights of power to which they have not attained, as there are no amount's of persecution they have not endured. No matter what they undertake, they seem to push it through with a vigor and an enterprise that they carry their point to the furthest attainable degree, and further that will be reached by any other. The ablest musician in London was a Jew, Brabam, who retained bis voioe and bis po sition till about eighty; forming his name out of Abraham by the simple expedient of drop- < ping the A to disguise his origin. And so [ in like manner the most distinguished actress of Paris at this moment is Rachel, the ? Jewess. It is doubtful whether the late war 1 in Europe could have been carried on with- i out the aid of the Rothschilds. They lent 1 immense sums to both Russia on the one hand \ and the Allies on the other. They have ? more recently offered to furnish the Bank of i France with thirty millions in gold. These t sons of Israel hold the purse strings of the s world, are the real' Kings of Europe, and t wield a sceptre of wider infljje^ce than did David in the zenith of his fame.?Philadelphia Ledger. It may be added that in the United States, 1 they are no less prominent in the ratio of 1 their members. Several of them hold im- ( portant political positions. Mr. Benjamin, " a Jew, is a distinguished U. S. Senator from ( Louisiana; Mr. luJee, a J ew, also repre- < sects Florida in the Senate. Others of them ' have been conspicuous members of the House < and some of them are now, and have been, J distinguished members of the State Legisla- i ture.?Charleston Xcics. 1 MR. BUCHANAN AT HOME. I A letter from Lancaster, Pa., to the New 1 York Herald, dated Nov. 1, says : l "On approaching "Wheatland the visitor \ is struck by the air of comfort and trimness ' that prevades the place. The mansion is a < plain brick one, without any pretension to 1 architectural beauty, but the site on which i it is built commands some picturesque views, < and is shaded by fine old trees. It is a aim- I pie, substantial, republican looking dwelling t without any of the composite decorations ] with which our city millionaires are in the i habit of ornamenting their suburban villas. : It has a warm, genial, homestead aspect, < promising a hospitable welcome and substan- < tial cheer to those who may enter its walls. Previous to its purchase by Mr Buchanan it 1 belonged to Mr. Wm. M. Meredith, late Se- < cretary of the Treasury under Gen. Taylor, f and was built, wc believe, by a brother-in- y law of Robert Emmet. I On entering the house I was shown into 1 the library, where I found Mr. Buchanan i with about ten or a dozen gentlemen, who i were all unknown to me, but who, I believe t were for the most part leading politicians of i the neighborhood. The conversation appear- < ed to be animated, and turned, of oourse, on ? the subject of the election. Mr. Buchanan < listened attentively to the remarks made, but < took very little part in them. From his calm, impassive manner, one would suppose him to I be the party least interested of all the per- i sons present on the subject under discussion. 1 It was many years since I Lad seen him, and i I was forcibly struck by the little alteration t which time and the cares of office had effec- ? ted in bis appearance. He looked even younger, fresher and stouter than when we i last met. . 1 Nothing could be more kind or more cor- ^ dial than the manner in which he received rac, although the motive of my visit was more ( of a personal than apolitical one. He is ex- ^ ceedingly fortunate in possessing so much ban hommc of manner, for I can assure you it is severely put to the test. He is beset by hosts of visiters of all conditions, some of 1 them queer samples of humanity. Only -1 think of an enthusiastic female phrenologist making a long journey to take a cast of his head. Mr. Buchanan received his lady visi- ^ tcr with the greatest politeness, invited her ^ to dinner, and told her she was welcome to examine anything she pleased about the t premises, with the exception of his bumps. You can imagine the mortification of this ar- j. dent votary of science at being compelled to j. leave without accomplishing the object of j. herjourney. r Mr. Buchanan's family'circle consists for l the present, of Mr. and Miss Lane (his nephew and niece,) Mrs. George Pitt, of Phil- ^ adelphia, and Mr. Appletcn, his late secretary of legation in London. Col. Ramsey is also on a visit with him. Miss Lane, a beau- fl tiful and highly accomplished young lady, ^ does the honors of the mansion with the j same grace and affability which gained her 0 30 much popularity at the head of her un- t [ .le'a establishment in Lnndnn "LIFE IS SWEET." "What," Is asked a friend, who had been T jn a delicious country excussion, "did you a ,ee that best pleased you ?" My friend has cultivated her lore of moral, v aiore than her preception of physical beau- c ty, and I was not surprised when, after re- ^ plying, with a smile, that she would tell mc c honestly, she went on to say : "My cousin ^ took me to see a man who had been a cler- j lyman in the Methodist connection. He ^ had suffered from a nervous rheumatism, and g from a complication of diseases, aggravated t hy ignorant drugging. Every muscle in his c body, excepting those which move his eyes ind tongue, is paralyzed. His body has be- a ;ome as iron. His limbs have lost the hu- ^ nan form. He has not lain on a bed for 0 seven years. He suffers pain. He has in- e rented a chair which offords him some alle- y nation. His feeling are fresh and kindly, ^ ind his mind is unimpaired. He reads con- gJ itantly. His book is fixed in a frame bebre him, and he manages td turn the leaves a jy an instrument which he moves with his ^ ommka Ua Imfl nn 5 w /?am n V? * win ^aIIawa t UU^UC. lie iiaa au lu^uig ui iuii tj uuiiuto ^ rhis pittance, by the vigilant economy of ^ lis wife, and some aid from kind rustic leighbors, bring the year round. His wife s the most gentle, patient, and devoted of c oving nurses. She never has too much to fi lo, to do all well; no wish or thought goes f< jeyond the unvarying circle of her conjugal e luty. Her love is as abounding as his wants J ?her cheerfulness as sure as the rising of a he sun. She has not for years slept two h lours consecutively. d "I did not know which most to reverence, lis patience or hers; and so I said to them. Ah !' said the good man, with a most ser- h me smile, 'life is still sweet to y how cao h t but be so with such a wife?'" 0 And surely life is sweet to her, who feels, jvery hour of the day, the truth of ties gracious acknowledgement. Oh, ye, who live amidst alternate sunshine and showers of plenty, to whom night jrings sleep, and daylight freshness?ye nurmurers and complaiuers who fret in the jarness of life till it gall you to the bone? ffho recoil at the slightest burden, aud shrink frouua passing cloud?consider the nagnanimous sufferer my friend described, ind learn the divine art that can distill sweetness from the bitterest cup.?"Mtis Sedgxcick, in Union Magazine. COST OF THE CONTEST. ~ \ -J Few people ever think of the expense iu :ash of a Presidential contest. Yot it is eally something enormous. The vast m4jhinery necessary to carry on such a canvass ?the number of organizations which it re juires?the amount ot printing, of writing, if postage, and of labor of every kind, which % s brought into service, is far beyond any' estimate usually formed. Let ns state , a few facts, which may aid in forming an opiaon: <' " - ,, , There arc about 800 counties, and not far from 9,900 towns, in the thirty-one States composing the Union. Every town ias one political club of each party?and nany towns have many more. There were indoubtedly during the last canvass over 15,000 organized clubs, bclongingKo each )f the political parties, within the United States?the number of Fremont clubs may may have been 5,000 less, since the republican organization did not extend into the Slave States. Each of these clubs was in ictive operation for at least three months.? Each of them required rooms, printing, postige, more or less travelling of their officers ind committees; and these, with other inciiental expenses, could not have amounted? }Q the average, to less thaD 8100 a month ?or 8300 for the canvass. The labors performed by their secretaries, president and committees would certainly amount to the steady services of at least three men each, ivorth not loss than $100 each for the whole ;hree months. Not lees than 1,000 persons aave been actively engaged, for nearly the A whole of the canvass, in making speeches ind public addresses?traveling from place :o place, and always at an expense which nu8t be met by somebody?and entitled, of lourse, to have their ovrn services estimated it a fair price?probably $500 for each, including their expenses, would not be a low estimate. Then on election day there are opened in - * ;he United States not less than 50,000 polls, it which each party stations not less than ive men, besides the inspectors, policemen ?nd other legal officers, who average, perhaps, ive more, making ten in all, whose services ire worth at least two dollars each. Let us sum up the aggregate of aH these terns:' fjy J incidental expenses of 40,000 clubs at $300 each ;. 12,000,000 Services of three men each, for three months at $100 12,000,000 )ne thousand speakers for three months at $500 600,000 )fficers, challengers, &c., at the polls 1,000,000 Total $25,600,000 Here is a total of more than twenty-five nillionsof dollars expended in the canvass.? Yew lvr/c Times. TO YOUNG MEN. Young man ! save that penny?pick up hat pin?let that account be correct to a arthing?find out what that bit of ribbon losts, before you say you will tako it?payhat half dime your friend handed you to nake change with?in a word, be economical, le accurate, know what you are doing?be lonest, and then be generous, for all you lave or acquire thus, belongs to you by every ule of right, and you may put it to any good ise you please. It is not parsimony to be conomical. It is not miserly to save a pin rom loss. It is not selfish to be correct in rour dealings. It is not small to know the ?rice of articles you are about to purchase, ir to remember the little debt you ?we.? JVhat if you do meet Bill Pride decked out a much better suit than yours, the price if which he has Dot yet learned from his ailor, and he laughs at your faded dress, ,nd old-fashioned notions of honesty and ight, your day will come. Franklin, who rom a penny-saviug boy. walking the streets rith a loaf of bread under his arm, became , companion of kings. "Take care ot the pence, and the pounds rill take care of themselves." La Fitte, the. elebrated French banker, leaving the house o which he had applied for a clerkship, was lot too proud or careless to pick up* a pin.? Phe simple pin laid the foundation of his mmense wealth. The wise banker to whom ie applied saw the act, called him back, and ;ave him employment, being convinced by his simple act that he would be a valuable lerk and a useful man. Be just, then generous. Benevolehce.is great duty, by which you not only benefit he object, but feel a sensation of joy in your wn soul, worth more than gain. But genrosity can never be measured by the amount ou lavish on a fine dress, or that you spend 9 gratify vanity and folly. Let the girls ay you are small, rather than spend a dolir for a useless book. Purchase good books, nd they will tell you that no girl worth aving ever selected a man for a husband on ccount of bis long tailor 8 bill, any more ban on account of bis long ears. 5?* A gentleman in the American Agriulturist states that he thoroughly cured a ne young mare afflicted with the heaves, by jeding her on cornstalks, and that the disase never returned. The writer quotes udge Buel's opinion as to cornstalks being remedy; that distinguished agriculturist aving had a horse afflicted with that disorer, which disappeared after being so fed. We have the authority of the Clevemd Plain Dealer for stating that "Kansas as quit bleeding." Can the sample said f Gerrit Smith and Moses H. GriinfU ?