University of South Carolina Libraries
* _ " '' ' _? B-g. ?- '" qedbag ? - ??????? MtA. [proprietors. An Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. {lewismqbht,pomwot. SAM L Vf. MELT Oil, J r ^ I . , VOL. 3. YOEKVILLE, S. C., TBfUESDAY, JANUARY 22,1857. NO. 3. . Cjjoicc ^oflri). A NAME IN THE SAND. Alone I walked the ocenn strand, A pearly shell was in my h:uid; I stooped and wrote upon the sand My name?the year?the day. As onward from the spot I passed, One lingering took behind I cast? A ware came rolling high and fast ' And washed my lines away. . And so, methought, 'twill shortly be With every mark on earth from me; v A wave of dark oblivion's sea " > Will sweep across the place .Where I have trod the sandy shore. Of Time, and been, to be no more; Of me, my frame, the name I bore, To leave no track nor case. And yet with Him who counts the sands, j And holds the waters in Ilis hands, I know a lastiag record stands r :u?.i imtTIUVU Ugmiisb til J UltuiV. Of nil this mortal part has wrought, Of all this thinking soul has thought, And from these fleeting moments caught For glory or for shame! % Chilling Calc. THE ARKANSAS COWARD. The beautiful little towu of Van Buret), on the Arkansas River, near the Cherokee line, during its eavly history, and was famous for the number and ferocity of its desperadoes, being the principal meridian and focus of rendezvous for Indian traders, and all sorts of adveutures who found it necessary | to ohaoge their domicile from lands govern- j ed by ?the administration of a rigid code.? The half-bred 'braves' of the Cherokee na- j tion also flocked to the same site, to drink, ; carouse, take a hand at cards, aod exhibit j their powers iu sanguinary fsctto's' with pis-! tols and long knives. &uch a state of so-; eiety may be imagined?it cannot be descri-' bed. Not a sun performed its circuit that' did not witness some dreadful single combat I with or without murderous weapons, while ' now and then dozens at a time, and by mutual agreement, marched from the rumshops ! out on the public square and engaged in mortal strife. At this time, Thomas A. Myers emigrated to Arkansas, and opened a largo grocery at Van Buren, acting himself as keeper aud retailer. Such an occupation at that time required it man of the most determined courage, as the store had always a back room or shed attached, especially appropriated to gambling, both by day and by night and where the players are supplied with the choicest liquors at the bar, and would be sure to bully the grocer out of his reasonable charges, unless restrained by fear. For awhile, however, Myers succeeded admirably. The half-breeds, loafers, and chartered fighters,' as they were called, held a caucus, and unanimously voted that the new arrival was a daugerous subject and had better be lcit alone. This verdict was altogether owing to the stranger's personal appearance ' as military as might well be conceived. Tall, j manly, and symmetrical in shape, with great j endowments, both in strength and agility, 1 he would have had few equals in the arms ' of naked nature. But by the coming invention of art?iroD, steel and lead, and the thunder aud lightning of gunpowder, are wade to light for ? e feeblest bosoms: and thus dwarfs and giants, provided both arclike the heirs of true courage, now stand on the same dead level. It was believed also that Myers possessed the resolute will to ban- i die these awful engines of destruction where j life and death hung on the touch of a trig-1 ger. His countenance betokened the perfection of bravery. His face wore generally a stern expression, and when that melted J into a smile, the smile seemed sterner still, j Ilis eyes were exceedingly black, wild, pen- j etratibg and restless, and had that cold 1 gleamiug metalic look, which may be regarded as the surest sigu of desperation. Besides, he carried an appalling supply of pistols, and a bowic knife fourteen inches' in the blade. Ilence, everybody was respectful ; and obliging to the ostensible hero for the period of several weeks, during which an unusual calm reigned in the village. At length a terrible affray occurred at My- j ers' grocery. Half a dozen fire arms explo- J ded in quick succession, and the deafening ; roar so frightened the keeper that he took to ; his heels and fled from his establishment ? i The fact settled public opinion as to his char- i acter. 'What a chicken-hearted coward, to run ! from his own castle/ exclaimed Gen'l Cole, j f Vlrt \ O n/\1 ftAn aP / ! nnrl rvntn I *IU?/VJVUH ui xiuuu'.i uuuiiTW uuu ^aiu biers. 'Why he hasn't the spunk of a dead possum !' lisped Bill (''rceue, the dandy loafer combing his 'soap-locks' with his long rusty nails. "Let's drink his liquor, and smoke his cigars, and not pay for theui, because as howhe's a coward, said Jack Warhawk, a huge half-breed, and having enunciated this specimen of genuine Cherokee logic, Jack leaped over the counter and began to fill glasses and hand out cigars, crying?'Toast to the brave, my boys. We will never want while the world has chickens of the white feather.' The firing in the grocery having ceased for mure than an hour, being replaced by a din of the most boisterous mirth, Myers,, by a great effort, mustered the spirit to return. He found the customers helping themselves with a veusreance, anu thought C / " to overcome them by the assumption of he- j roic airs. lie snatched his revolver from his pocket and pointing it at Warhawk's breast, sternlv ordered him to leave the house. 'If that's what you're artcr,' shouted Jack, unsheathing his bowie, and springing back over the counter, 'here's what will give you a ladle full.' Myers still kept the revolver presented, ( but his hand shook like a leaf in the tern- j ^pest, and bis very feet involuntarily retreated j backwards by short, quivering steps. The j two feelings, physical fear and mural courage, were struggling for the mastery, lie was eudeavoring to act bravely ; but his nerves refused their concurrence, and he remained, so to speak, in equipoise, totally incapable of acting at all. lie was impotent to fight, and as powerless to fly. n. There was no such hesitation in the conduct of Jack Warhawk. Brandishing his knife with his right hand, he seized theflowing locks of Myers in the left, and roared at the top of his voice? "Down, coward, down upon your marrowbones, or by the blue blazes I'll cut your throat!" Incredible as it may seem, Myers still holding his deadly revolver, loaded with six rounds, cowered to the floor, like a beaten hound, and begged most piteously for his life, a prayer which the mocking half-breed granted, on condition that he woutd treat i- 1 r I lie Ciuwu iui a we UJV. Frow that time the unfortunate Myers was subject to every species of insult and out rage. The loafers would pull his nose for mere amusement; the half-breeds would spit iu his face to make him treat, and Gen. Cole, when intoxicated, would strike him with his cane, to cure him of his cowardice he said. The poor grocery keeper brooked all these gross indignities with the patience of a martyr, and would meekly remonstrate. 'Gentlemen, it is ungenerous to abuse mc thus, for I confess I have no courage?I cannot fight.' This continued for a whole year, when a change occurred that caused the insulters to rue their ignoble persecutions. He had a beautiful wife, whom he loved with tenderest passion. One day when the husband was absent, the hideous half-breed, Jack Warhawk, instigated to the damning deed by the persuasions nf Gen. Cole, went to the grocery keeper's private residence, and maltreated his lady in the most shameless manner. ^ Myers returned home to find his beloved one drowned, as it were, in tears. lie heard the harrowing tale without external manifestations of anger or emotion. His face, it is true, beeamc somewhat pale?his lips quivered an instant, aud then settled to an expression rigid as a mass of iron, and his wild black eye, it may be, shot a few more beams of penetrating fire; but he did not mutter curses. lie muttered not a whisper of menace; did not condole or even sympathize with his afflicted wife lie only armed himself with a*bowic knife, fourteen inches io tiie blade, from hilt to point, and started for the village. lie came within sight of his enemy, then promenading the public square, and boasting of his villainous achievement. At this vision. Myers' lip curled into a horrid smile, and his dark eye melted into a stream of tears, lie approached till nearly touching the half-breed and then said in a horrid whisper. Wretch ! be quick, draw ! for by St. Paul one of us must die! And he waited till the other should be ready for the strife on equal terms. He did not have to wait long, for Jack understanding that cold, glittering, suaky smile and those hot gushing tears, as the certain tokens of murderous madness, immediately unsheathed at the same moment with his adversary. and they began the dreadful combat; which was soon decided. Myers parried three furious blows of the hateful halfbreed, and then grasping his foe's clothing with his left hand, with his other plunged the knife up the hilt in his heart. The (.'herokee expired without a groan. And now the inward and terrible passions of Myers found vent in appalling explosions. His curses were fearful to hear; he spurned his fallen enemy with his foot, and wished aloud he had a hundred lives so that he might enjoy the pleasure of killing hiui a hundred times over. His wrath then ehang ed fur his other iosulters. lie new at the loafer, Bill Greene, and tore out his "soap locks" by handfuls. He sprang upon Gen. Cole and pulled his nose until it was flattened between his fingers?all the while that gory knife dripping with blood in his left hand. His enemies were so taken by surprise, terror-striken and stupefied, that for a space they seemed utterly incapable of voluntary motion. The coward had suddenly became the bravest of the brave. The equipoise of opposite feeling was destroyed forever; the sheer power of pure will had conquered physical fear. Does any one doubt our strange story? Let him address a letter of inquiry to Hon. G. W. Pachal, of Yau Buret), late Judge of the Supreme Court of Arkansas, and the fullest confirmation cau be obtained. On the same evening Gen. Cole called a special council of his fricuds to eonsu't on the course he should pursue. There was but one?that a3 he had bcou insulted by a direct and gross public indignity, lie must call his enemy to the field of honor. Accordingly on the following day a challeuge was dispatched, which Myers promptly accepted, and fixed the time at noon of the same day, the weapons to be double-barreled shot guns; distance ten paces. The parties met on the sand beach under A.X. . I ... 1. .1' .!. . * 1 .1 Ml 1 me L'iiiiK oi inc river, aoovctne village, auu hundreds collected to witness the issue. The mortal beligerants were placed in a position by their secouds, and the death dealing guns, enormous double barrels, rested with dark yawning muzzles on the sand in their hands. The spectators were much astonished at the strong cootrast exhibited by their appearance. General Cole was an old, experienced duellist; who had shot his man before he was eighteen, and had often been engaged in affairs of the kind. On the contrary Myers was unacquainted with fire-arms, and had always hitherto been deemed an unmitigated poltroon. And yet, singular to record, the duellist stood up nervous and agitated, almost trembling, while the reputed coward was calm, firm, aud steady as a rock, with that appalling siuile oa his curliuglij-, ana s ttcred tear drops i glea.i.iiu i'i liio .sun, on his check ! t Jen. Cole's second gave the word. Fire ?i.e. two, three! lie need not, however, to have counted so many, for with the echo of the sound '-tire," Myers elevated his piece as quick as thought and touched the trigger. There was a tremendous roar, aud General Cole, the duellist, fell dead. His head was pierced with twenty buckshot. No one ever again called Myers a coward iu Arkansas; uo one ever thought of the term as his shadow gleamed by in the sunlight. lie had taken hi" degrees in the col- ' lege of desperation, and his diploma written in blood ! I He became a politician of great notoriety, leader in that scctiou of the State; was re- : . 11 1 -?.l .1,. 1 I peaieuiy eiecieu 10 me legislature, nnua* he acquired distinction by bis talents, but still more by his fearless daring, and he is i said to be yet in the progress of ascension, having recently obtained the commission of Major General of the Militia. We must expect before longto-sce his name in the rolls of Members of Congress. Nature made him a coward; love for his insulted wife rendered him brave) and bravery has conferred ' houor. 1 Stled Ucabing. THE MIS ISSIPPI RIVER. \ The Mississippi river is the greatest stream , ; in the world. The total length is 4,000 ! miles. On looking over a volume recently ! issued, entitled "Lloyd's Steamboats and ! Railroad Directory," we find the following , instructive article on the waste of the waters ' , of the Mississippi. It says : No experience will enable a person to an: ticipate, with any degree of certainty, the elevation of the flood in any given year. In some seasons, the waters do not rise above ' their channels; in others the entire lower valley of the Mississippi is submerged. Em- ( kanl.'nw.nte rfillrwl 1/irnoc knt'A knrtn micn/1 from five to ton feet high, on both sides of j ( the stream, extending many miles above and : below New Orleans. By this means the river is restrained withiD its proper limits, except at the greatest freshets, wheu the wateis sometimes break over everything, causing great destructions to property, and sometimes loss of life. The average height of the flood from the Delta to the junction of j the Missouri is above sixteen feet. At the | mouth of the latter river it is twenty-five feet Below the entrance of the Ohio river the rise is often fifty-five feet. At Natchez, it seldom exceeds thirty feet; and at New Orleans about twelve feet. What j goes with the water. It is known that the ; difference between high aud low watermark, ' as high up as White river, is about thirtysix feet, and the current at high water mark runs nearly seven miles per hour, and opposite to New Orleans the difference between I course, like the Ohio, over rocky strata wall- j ; cd in by rock aud impervious clay banks the ;; high water mark at New Orleans would reach i ; one hundred feet above its present limits; i 1 j but running over coarse sand, walled in by j1 ! a deposit made of sand, aDcicntdeluvial det- ? ritous and vegetable mound, no more water : reaches the ocean than the excess over the j j amount that permeates the surrounding ' .New Orleans, corresponds with the low water j J ! mark below XeifeOrleans, therefore the Mis- i i sissippi river is pouring through its own bot- } I torn into the ocean, the superimposed weight ! a ! giving literal pressure to hurry the subtcrra- s I ncau current. If the reader lias ever stood 11 : upon a Mississippi sand-bar, in a hard rain, t ! or seen water poured from a bucket on the ' sand bar, he has scou that neither can be j 1 done in sufficient <|uautity to produce any 1 1 current or accumulation on the surface. The j | river is, therefore, from the time it comes 1 i below the limestone stratus of Missouri and j i Kentucky, wasting itself through its own i ; i bottom. If the Mississippi river had to pursue its i i high and low water mark is only twelve feet, i and the current a little over three miles to ! the hour. The width and depth of the river j being the same, from which we calculate j that nearly .six times as much water passes \ ! the moutli of the White river as by New Or- ( leans. What goes with the excess '! The only solution cv, r offered, is that it escapes by the bayous Plaquemine," "Lafourche," ^ aud "Iberville," but when we calculate the , width, depth and current of these bayous, j they fall vastly short of affording a sufficient ^ escapement. The true explanation can, we < think, be given. At low water, throughout the whole cx- , tent, we sec a land structure exposed, under-! ( ; lying the bank, or that the alluvial structure j on which the plantations arc, is a structure ! of deposit made by the river above its low , i water mark, which, opposite to the mouth of j | White river, is thirty feet thick. As you j ] descend, the river diminishes in volume as j, the difference between hi?h and low water ' f mark diminishes and nearlycorresponds to ! t it, and wherever the bottom is exposed, it , I shows throughout the whole extent, tcat the j. bottom is pure coarse saiul] exhibiting at ? | many places the ocean.shingle, through the ; | superimposed alluvial structure mixed with f hue sand. The water percolates with such j facility and rapidity that the water in a well j dug at a considerable distance from the river { { bank, rises and falls with the rise and fall of , I the river, not varying an inch, and through } | the coarse satid and shingles of the bottom, ! : it passes as rapidly as through a common j j ; sieve. i t By the accurate surveys of several scien- j j tific engineers, it is ascertained that the fall t of the Mississippi liver is four inches to the 1 j mile The distance from Nate lies to New c | Orleans of three hundred miles will give J : twelve hundred inches or one hundred feet, j 1 | The depth of the river is less than fifty feet11 at high water mark. The river debouches j into the ocean, from a promontory made by j itself The surface of the ocean, by meas- J uremcntbelow the bottom of the river, above |' structure and passes off in the process of percolation or transportation in a subterranean descent to the ocean. The river, without any other restraint from rock or clay in the bottom or bank, is left free to ther government of no other law than the law of hydrostatics. The washing or wasting of the banks cannot be prevented, though the caving or sliding of large portions at one time may be easily guarded against. THE PLAYS OF SHAKSPEAKE. An interesting controversy has arisen in the literary world in England, as well as in this country, as to the authorship of the plays generally attributed to William Shakspeare. Mr. William Ilenry Smith, of London, has impugned the validity of his claims, and trransferred his claims to Lord Bacon. This bold heretic commeuces his onslaught on the Bard of Avon by citing a passage from the writings of Alexander Pope, in which the poet gives it as his opinion that the "plays W111mm Qkokcnnnro trorn r\ia Illll IUUk(/U IV TT 1UIUIU ?JllUnO|/VUiU II Vt V produced by unknown authors, or fitted up for the theatre while it was under his administration, and no other owner claiming them, they were adjudged to him, as they give trays to the lord of the manor." Mr. Smith describes Shakspearc as an uneducated man, incapable of producing the drama with which his name is associated, and represents him as no higher than a theattical factorum, being sole owner of the wardrobe ind properties; in a word, as the managerand the superintendent of the mechanical department of the theatre. In favor of the pretensions of Lord Bacon, be puts forward the following argument:? Bacon, in 1557, composed the Dum Shows, icted before Queen Elizabeth, at Greenwich, ft was a mask, and this is adduced in proof af his dramatic capabilities; besides his familiar conversation is known to have been peculiarly dramatic in tone. In 1621 he was politically disgraced, and devoted himself to collect and arrange his literary works. In 1623 appeared the folio of the plays, inelu-? 1*11 1 1 1 nJL __ amg otners, wrucn naa always oeen auriDu:ed to Shakspeare. Now, who made the ! selection ? who alone was competent to make t? who could classify the I1G plays contained in the folio? Clearly no person but the mthor himself, or a person deputed by the luthor. The folio appeared under the names rf John Iluminge and Ilenry Coudell the players, but Mr. Smith, considers the real iditor was Ben Johnson, who acted under he directions of Lord Bacon. Mr. Smith, i n support of his theory quotes a letter from Tobic Matthews to the Lord Viscount St. Allan's containing this remarkable postscript: 'The most prodigious wit I ever know of my jation, and of this side of the sea, is of your ordship's name, though he he known by anothcr." By "another," it is assumed that l'ohic alludes to Shakspeare, who usurped he honors due to Bacon. It is a well known fact that Shakspeare fvas singularly regardless of fame. His editor, Maloue, when criticizing the play called 1 ;he"London Prodigal," says: "one knows j :iot which most to admire?the impudence of i he printer in affixing our great poet's name j :o a comedj, publicly acted at his owu thca;re, of which it is very improbable tHflt lie should have written a single line, or Shak:peare's negligeuceof fame in suffering such i piece to be imputed to him without taking lie least of it." This indifference is indeed i very startling circumstance, but was it not muallv remarkable in Lord Bacon, if he ._4 ^ _ __ vere the author of the dramas attributed to ?hakspeare? Mr. Smith denies that Shak pcarc had sufficient talents or learning to ivrite these dramas; but he wrote the poems )f "Venus and Adonis," of "Tarquin and , Lucrecce," and the "Sonnets." These are proofs of his abilities, ana to : mike good Mr. Smith's argument, he must1 prove that Shakspeare was not their author. | [Jut there is other evidence of Shakspeare's renius, in the praises of him recorded by his :ontcmporaries and transmitted to us. Take j lie following from Fuller: "Many were the ! vit combats between Shakspeare and Men Johnson. I beheld them like a Spanish j jrcat galleon and an English man of war.? j Master Johnson, like the former, was built j 'ar higher in learning, solid, but slow, in his . )erformancqs; Shakspeare, like the latter, ess in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could j urn with all tides, tack about, and take ad- j rantage of all winds by the quickness of his , ,vit and invention." All educated persons must take a lively ntcrest iu whatever relates to the fame of j he Hard of Avon, and we have therefore I riven the salient features of this new eon-1 roversy. Each must decide for himself! jetween Bacon and Shakspeare. Mr. Smith j lelivered a lecture on the subject at the Beethoven Rooms, Harley street, London, i >ut it does not appear that he has as yet j nadc any converts. ? HON. W. W. BOYCE. The Washington correspondent of the 1 S'ew York Daily Macs thus speaks of our j [leprcsentative's proposition: Washington, January G. j Mr. Boycc's tariff proposition to reduce I ill duties above 20 per cent, to 20 per cent., j mil to tax tea and coffee now on the free i ist 20 per cent., is the simplest proposition i hat has been submitted yet on this complex : subject. Mr. Boyce's views on the tariff are ! rcry fully matured, as was shown by his i naiden speech in the House on this subject, ' ?.;il l.jo.l fn Viis nronosifinn hein<? look r> iiii.ii ttiii r--r n ;d upon with as much favor as that propos >d by Mr. Gurthrie or the one presented by I Mr. Letcher. The correspondent of the Charleston Eceii-1 'nj Xeics also notices his proposal: "Mr. Boyoe, of your State, has submitted ' i tariff proposition, which meets with more ; 'avor than either of the others which have , Dcen presented to the House. It has the ; nerit of being very simple and easily under- } stood. It proposes to reduce all duties above JO per cent, to 20 per cent., and taxes tea md coffee, now on the free list, 20 per cent, rhe Democratic members have great confi dence in 3Ir. Boyce's tariff notions, he hav- f ing made a speech the first session he was 1 here on the subject, which was marked by i eminent ability." 1 ? ??a?? CLERGYMAN TURNED SOLDIER. j Some twenty years ago a young man whom ( I shall name " Jamie," was pastor of a large ,< congregation of the established Church of s Scotland. At school and at college he was ( distinguished for his love of learning, and . as a minister was unrivalled for his eloquence ^ and mental attainments. He had been settled about a year, and was on the eve of be- t ing married to a fine young woman, whom he ^ had laved from childhood, when the lieri- \ tors and several English gentlemen, who ( were then on a visit to the North, attended ( Cork to hear the famous preacher, ne more ( than verified his fame; he enraptured his , audience. His thome was the story of his f church. It3 many years of disastrous wars, ] its undying hope, even when despair seemed t to shroud it in endless night; its unwearied j toils and its final triumphs were each iu turn , preseuted*to the mind of the hearers, with a t power and feeling that defy description.? t He stood the genius of eloquence personified. r But there was one among his hearers who ( was not bewildered by his glowing pictures. , The gentle hearted Bella, his betrothed, ( when the congregation dispersed, followed c him to the manse. lie received her in his { ! study, but while conducting her to a chair, ? i she sank upon tlio floor and burst into tears, c j "0, Jamie ! Jamie!!" she exclaimed, as he s ! raised her tenderly in hi3 arms, and seated r 1 her on a sofa, "ye hac broken my puir heart!" a j "How so, my Bella, explain !" "Ye were : drunk?raving drunk, Jamie; and I wonder t | the elders did not take ye out of the pulpit! t Ye whined and ranted, and, some times, [ ; God forgive me for saying sae, I thought I! s | saw the evil One standing beside'ye, laugh- j t ing and clapping you on the shoulder. My j t puir brain reeled?I was mad and knew it;'t lam mad now; I canna live out this day: I feel my blood freeze?0, God be merciful j. to me a sinner, and save, 0 save my Jamie ?" 11 Ilcr head reclined upon his bosom, she ga- j zed upou him a moment, and expired iu hi j arms. 1 f He has preached his last sermon. No en- j a treaties of a congregation who loved him? | [ ,.f c?t <v.?i 1IU UUllUl lll? Ultuio UI 1UIU1C piCiCILUCUl, ICU* | dered by the gentry, could induce him to \ ^ resume his labors as minister. ] Five or six years passed, when the writer J of this, who was his school-fellow, accidcn- g tally met him in London. Jamie was then one of the principal teachers in a large cdu! cational establishment, and was highly esteemed for the moral excellence of his i character, as well as his varied learning and c skill and a suecesful teacher. lie was dress- i cd in deep mourning, shunned society, and a when the labors of the day closed he either i wandered alone through the streets or retired 1 to his lodgings. The scene ofBclla's death a was ever present to his memory. 1 Iler pure soul, he said, saw him as he was, 1 a poor, vain, and self-conceited sinner. For t the purpose of concentrating his thoughts and c infusing life into bis sermons, he was in the i habit of taking a glass of whiskey before en- ) tering the pulpit. The morning before he c preached the fatal sermon, he felt rather x nervous, for he knew that there would be < strangers to bear liirn, and lie took nearly t two glasses. What he sailor how he con- c ducted himself no effort of memory could re- c call?the death of Bella alone had merged c into itself the doings of that dreadful day ? f The compliments which he received sounded v in his ears like satire and mockery, and the c very name of liquor impressed him with hor- .J or. o lie left home and came to London, where e he obtnined a situation as teacher, but every r thing appeared so black to liira that he ex- n pressed Tear that he should in some unguard- ed moment destroy himself. n IIis friend, who was a sailor, suggested j a some active employment, that would call into ; s play his physical faculties, and thus give his I e mind n spell, and ended by offering to pro-! b cure him a place before the mast in a ship, i t "I like your suggestion," he said, "but dis- j fl like the sea." "Then turn soldier, and seek ' f employment in India, where there is always j t plenty of fighting." "I will," he said, ! s springing from his chair; "when my engage- j a mcnt expires I will purchase an Knsign's 11 commission. I wonder the thought never j suggested itself to me, for my ancestors, as far back as I can trace them, were soldiers. Better, far better die on the field of battle b than fall by one's own hand." We scpara- y ted. ^ # j s A few weeks since, in running my eye a- j long the list of those who had distinguished 0 themselves at the battle of Inkerman, I saw fc the name of Lieut. Col. . A letter from j my friend has since informed uie that he had t served in India under Lord Gough, aud was a promoted for his gallant conduct in three i <_? campaigns. He was present at the battles j v of Alma, Balaklava and Inkerman, and at! J last accounts was iu good health, engaged in j a the siege of Sebastopol. He was single; !y his heart was dead to love!" 11 IH?I ____ g Meeting ok General Jackson and J. I b Q. Adams at President Monroe's Le- j 0 VKE.?The following account of the rc.ncon- { y tre between Gen. Jackson and John Q. Ad- | y anis, at President Monroe's levee, the night g after Adams' election over Jackson for the o Presidency, by the House of Representatives tl is taken from Peter Parley's "Recollections n of his Lifetime a I shall pass over other individuals present tl only noting an incident which respects the two persons in the assembly who most of all s others engrossed the thoughts of the visitors t< ?Mr. Adams, the elect, Gen. Jackson, the h defeated. It chauced, in the course of the ii evening, that these two persons, involved in I the throng, approached each other from the h opposite directions, yet without knowing it. p Suddenly, as they were almost together, the h persons around, seeing what was to happen, j| by a sort of instinct, stepped aside and left e them face to faoe. Mr. Adams was by him- e a* r. v ** v. . elf; Gen. Jackson had a large, handsome ady on his arm. They looked at each other 'or a moment, and then Gen. Jackson moved brward, and reaching out his long arm, said ?"How do you do, Mr. Adams ? I give ?ou my left hand, for the right, you see, is levoted to the fair, I hope you are very well, iir." All this was gallantly and heartily iaid and done. Mr. Adams took the General's hand, and said, with chilling coldness ?"very well, sir: I hope Gen. Jackson is veil!" It was curious to see the western planter, he Indian fighter, the stem soldier, who had vritten his country's glory in the blood of he enemy at New Orleans?genial and gracious in the midst of a court, while the old iourtier and diplomat was stiff, rigid, and sold as a statue ! It was all the more rcnarkablc from the fact that, four hours beore, the former had been defeated, and the alter was a victor in a struggle for one of lie highest objects of human ambition. The personal character of these two individuals vas in fact well expressed in that chance necting; the gallantry, the frankness and he heartiness of the one, which captivated dl; the coldness, the distance, the self-consentration of the other which repelled all.? \ somewhat severe, but still acute analyst )f Mr. Adams's character, says: "Unloubtedly, one great reason of his unpopuarity, was his cold and antipathetic manner, ind the suspicion of selfishness it suggested, >r at least added greatly to conf rm. None ipproached Mr Adams but to recede. He lever succeeded?he never tried to conciliite.,' I recollect an anecdote somewhat illustraive of this. When he was a candidate for he Presidency, his political friends thought t advisable that he should attend a cattle how at Worcester, Mass.,so as to conciliate he numbers of influential men who might >e present. AccDrdingly he went, and while here many persons were introduced to him, md among the rest, a farmer of the vicinity ?a man of substauceand great rcspectabiliy. On being presented, he said : "Mr. Adams, I am very glad to see you. dy wife, when she was a gal, lived in your ather's family; you were then a little boy, ind she told me a great deal about you. She las very ofteu combed your head." ((Wall " nnul Mr Adams. in liis harsh vay?"I suppose she combs your head now!" L'he poor farmer slunk back like a lashed lound, feeling the smart, but utterly unconicious of the provocation. IGNORANCE AND LOW WAGES. What asses men are to be igoorant, even n a financial point of view. A blockhead :an get but six shillings a day in any market n the world; men of intelligence often make is many dollars. A man who can't write, s as much a slave as if he had been born a >rutc. He is doomed to be a hewer of wood ind a drawer of water all the days of his life. Drudge! drudge! is all that is in store for lim, should he continue on earth for a ccnury. Educate your children, therefore, not inly for their happiness, but their incomes. Ml can sec that wickedness leads to misery; et very few find out that which is equally :ertain, that ignorance leads to misery, to wretchedness Dr. Johnson was once asked, 'Who was the most miserable man ?" and he reply of the sage was, "The man who annot read on a rainy day." The writer nice passing through a park, saw nailed to me of the trees, this warning: "All dogs ound in th:s park will be shot." A friend who was with us remarked, "Unless dogs an read they are pretty badly off here."? sTow, God has not only written his lawsupn the trees, but in the stars and in the flowrs; his laws arc above and beneath, on our iglit hand and on our left, and if a man is iot able to read, he is "pretty badly off here" ?worse off than the dog, for the dog has a caster to read for him; but man has no caster between him and his God. The concquence is, lie is trapped by cunning at very corner. He is taken in and doDC for iy the spring gun duplicity and the manraps of ungodliness, and all lie can do is to loundcr and bear. He is even worse off han the wicked, for they may hope, but for he ignorant man there is no hope. He is entenced to hard labor for the term of his iatural life, and all the pardoning power in he world cannot prevent it. CURIOUS INVENTION OF SHOT. Almost every body has seen a shot tower, iut perhaps not all who have seen one knows /hat is the necessity for having so high a tructure for making shot. Previous to the ear 1782 persons called plumbers were the nly ones who made shot. The process was o let the melted lead drop into the water. Iut in this process the part that first touched he water was always flattened. About 1782 man named Watts, living in Bristol, Enland, by trade a plumber and shoemaker, ras assisted by his wife in the latter process. Irs. Watts was a woman of some genius, nd often reflected upon the subject of deising some means to make shot more round, t was her particular business to cast the hot, and she experimented for this purpose y dropping the melted lead into oil and ther liquids besides water, but the shot rere still indented or.flattened on the sides rhich first came in contact with the liquids. Ihe retired to bed one night thinking deeply n the subject of making shot round. In he anxious state of her mind her sleep was ot sound, of course. She began to dream, nd her dream is thus related by a writer in he Scientific American: "She dreamed of going into a neighbor's hop, a hatter by trade, and while talking } him she heard shot falling, and on asking im if he made shot, he went out, brought a a handful, and they were perfectly round, n much surprise she exclaimed, "My Clod, ow do you make them round ?" "By dropping them from a great height," said the atter.. Mrs. Watts awoke under the excitng discovery, aroused her husband, informd him of her dream, when they both dressd themselves, tried it upon the highest '> - - place on their own premises and found tfajp shot rounder than before, "but still indented The next day they tried it from the tower of St. Thomas' chnrch, that leans some Ifcet orer its base, when they attained shot round- ' er than the home attempt, bat not yet perfect. The next attempt was made in the shaft! of a coal mine, a few miles from Bristol, at a place called Kinswood, and from this trial they.obtained perfectly roand shot. Watts ascertained the height necessary, to make them round, by trials at different dephts, entered a caw at for a patent, made known his discovery to a wealthy acquaintance, erected a shot tower, realized eighty thousand pounds, undertook to erect a largo block of buildings at Clifton^sank all be had. made before they were ha|f finished, and became poor in his old age. I have passed the block many time, and it was called "Watti* ' Folly." There is no doubt that Watts or his wife made this discovery. Bat the idea, accor- , din? to some. belongs to Watts mora than his wife. It was Watts, and not Mrs. Watts, who is supposed to have dreamed on the subject. Watts is said to have dreamed that he was out in a shower, and that it rained lead instead of water, and thus was ?ogehdered the idea of giving perfect roundness to 'hot by letting the melted IcadJall a great distance.?Sunday Leader. NEW CALCULATING MACHINE. We read in the Moniteur: "M. Thomas, of Colmar, has lately made the finishing improvements in the calculating machine, called the arithmometer, at which he has been working for upwards of 30 years. . Pascal and Leibnitz, in the 17th century, and-Biderot at a later period, endeavored to construct a machine which might serve as g substitute for human intelligence in the combination of figures, but failed. M. Thomas' i arithmometer may be used without the least! I trouble or possibility of errors not only for i addition, subtraction, mu]tiplicati0n,<and>di-. vision, but also for much more complex operations, such as the extraction of the square root, involution, the resolution of triaDgfes, &c. A multiplication of eight figures by-eight others is made in eighteen secondare division of sixteen figures by eight .figures in twenty-four seconds; and in ope minute and. a quarter one can extract the'square root of 16 figures, and also prove the accuracy o/tbe " calculation. The arithmometer adapts itself to every sort of combination. As an instance of the wouderfulextentofitspowers, wc may state that it can furnish in a few seconds products amounting to 999,999,999,9911$- . 999,999,999,909,999,999! A marvelloap number, comparable to the infinite mnlti tude of stars which stud the firmament, or the* particles of dust whioh float in the atmosphere. The working of this instrument is however, most simple. To raise or lower a nut screw, to turn a winch a few times, and; by means of a button, to slide off a metal plate from right to left, is the whole Seeret, Instead of simply reproducing tho operations of man's intelligence, the arithmometer relieves that intelligence from the necessity'of making the operations. Instead of repeat- 7 ing responses dictated to it, this instalment instantaneously dictates the proper answer to the man who asks the question; T < "It is not a matter producing material'effects, but matttcr which thinks, reflects, reasons, calculates and executes all the most difficult and complicated arithmetical operations, with a rapidity and infallibility which defies all the calculators in the world. The arithmometer is moreover a simple instalment of very little volume and easily portable. It is already used in many great financial establishments, where considerable ccohV omy is realized by its employment. Tt wfH soon be considered as indispensable, and Be as generally used as a cloak, which was .'fof1 merly only to be seen in palaces, and is now j in every cottage. Generally speaking, the j practical application of any great mechanical improvement involves an injury to ccrttttf1 . ! interests, but that is not the case herff. The | arithmometer will not causo to the persons i employed in banks, counting-houses, and public offices auj such prejudices as the fitters suffered from theinvention of the stocking frame, the spinners from the spinning jennies, or copyists from the invention of printing. The person who makes use of thin 1 machine even daily docs not therefore lose bis aptitude for calculation in the ordinary way;On the contrary, although a child may be ^ easily taught to perform the most complicated calculations by the use of tbe instrument,. ; the more expert in figures tbe operator is the ! more advantage be will derive from the aid of this machine. The arithmometer is not I only a palpable evidence of a great difficulty overcome, it is an element of wealth, a new ! means of multiplying time, like tbe locomoi tive engine and the electric telegraph. The discovery is an event the full importance of which it is impossible as yet.to measure." r.. ^ NOVEL MEETING. . Dr. X. attended a masquerade ball, fit tbe motley and happy throng he falls in wi(h j a fair pilgrim in black silk, whose charming. ' * s ? - . ? t ? person, snow-w?ate neca, ana Dewitcningiy coquettish airs awaken in his soul the most rapturous love. She casts upon him looks of the most languishing tenderness; be ravels in the hope of having made a blissful conquest, lie musters up his courage, and ventures to address her. . "Who art thou, lovely mask t" asks Dr. ! X., almost melted in the glow of love. "Is it possible you do not know ine, Doc! tor ?" lisps the lady in black silk. "Xo, upon my honor I do not know thee?". "Bethink yourself, Doctor."^ v "Ah! thou art surely the gracious fairy who has appeared to me to-day, for the fourth time, to open to me the gates of bliss. "You mistokfig.Doctorj I am no fairy." v "Ah I who.art thou, then ?" "I am. the well known lady to whom you have now these nine weeks been indebted in the sum of twe dollars and seven shilling* for washing and ironing V