Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, September 03, 1857, Image 1
7^
jno. l. mixlee & co., proprieton. j An Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. j lewis k. grist, piiuiiwr.
VOL. 3. ~ , i. . YGEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 3,1857V 3STO. 35.
' , * ' . | , -- ' ' - - - fm.fr *. i- >- - . - v ' W
Jielerieb Joelrg. THE
ORATE WHERE WILLIE SLEEPS.
BT MBS. M. W. 9TKATT0N.
The dark-eyed boy, the widow's son,
Her gifted gleeful child?.
Of all her hopes the brightest one, '
That un her pathway smiles? 2
Has pasted away, and wild despair
The mother's reason eteepe,
One vision haunts her every where, ... ,
The grave where Willie sleeps. <
Too new her grief, she cannot bend
In resignation yet, . > J
And nothing now the power can lend 1
A moment to forget;
The toys he loved, the ball, the kite,
Each little token keeps,
Before his mother's tortured sight,
The grave where Willie sleeps. ,
u u . nw"
JJqw put his school books all away, t
His life's brief task in done? I
Had it been longer, who shall say
A re6? so sweet were won ?
The little hat, oh 1 bide it too, t
For mournful memory 6weeps I
Away all else, and brings to view _ <
The grate where Willie sleeps.
But soothing time will whisper yet t
In that sad. mother's ear, ^
Better the spotless dead regret
Than weep the tainted here;
Oh, life has many a orooked path * t
Where many a serpent creeps ;
And many a promise childhood hath
Which manhood never keeps. '
E
? 1? it- 1 j v
low iny \uv iuvcu vuc juiii^ i/j, x
The little bright-eyed boy
Wears holier loveliness on high,
And wins a holier iojr. c
Tho' still beside that hallowed mound ?]
The widowed mother weeps, ~
The christian's hope throws beanty round '
The grave where Willie sleeps. <j
Cotr>n?iA, July 17,1857. *
% fmwslit Shelcj). ?
From the Home Gazette. ^
THE FIRST SHADOW, ?
BY T. S. ARTHUR.
Ida was a bride. Onward through a whole ^
year of patient waiting, b&d she moved to- !j
ward this blessed estate, all ber thoughts
golden over, all her fancies radiant with love =
and beauty. And now she was a bride?a
happy bride. He who had won her, was .
worthy to wear her as a crown. Kind, hon- 1
orable and gifted?his praise was on the lips a
of all men. ?
Yes, Ida was a happy bride. It was the .
blooming, fragrant spring-time. Singing
birds were in all the trees, musical waters r
gliding through the peaceful landscape j and a
a cloudless sky bendiug over all. The bles
sedness of this new life was greater than she 1
had even imagined, in all the warmth of her 8
maiden fancies.
A moon had waxed and waned since the 1
lover became the husband; a moon, drop- I1
ping the sweets of Mount Hybla. It was
evening, and Ida stood by the window, look- .
ing out through the dusky air, waiting and
wishing for the return of her husband, who
was later than usual from his home. At *
last, her glad eyes cajjght a glimpse of his ,
well-knotfn form, and starting back from the
window, she went with springing steps to ^
meet him at the door; opening it ere his hand
could ring the bell.
"Dear Edward !" What a gushing love F
was in her voice ! She raised her lips for a
kiss, and a kiss was given. But somehow, 8
its warmth did uot go down to her heart. a
"Are you not well, dear?" she asked, r
very tenderly, as they entered their pleasant c
little parlor; and she looked up into his face
and tried to read its expression. But the u
twilight was too deep. b
"Quite as wellasusual, love." The voice v
of her husband was low and gentle ; but it s
had a new and changed sound for the young
wife's ears?a sound that made her heart *
tremble. And yet, his arm was around her, h
and he held one of her hands, tightly com- a
pressing it within his owu.
It grew dark in the room before the gas a
was lighted. When the strong rays fell sud-1 S
denly upon the face of her husband, Ida saw [ h
a change there also. It was clouded. Not j n
heavily clouded?but still in shadow. Steadi-1 s
1y and earnestly she looked at him, until he | ]<
turned his face partly away, to escape the j j;
searching scrutiny. I h
"You are not well, Edward." Ida looked j e
serious?almost concerned. i
"Don't trouble yourself. I'm very well." He
smiled, and patted her cheek, playful- c
ly?or rather, with an attempt at playfulness.
Ida was not deceived. A change had pas- c
sed over her husband. Something was wrong, t
Ho was uot as he had been. 1 1
In due time tea was announced, and the t
little family party of two gathered around 11
the table in the neat breakfast room. I r
"Burnt toast and dish water tea, as usual!" ! r
These were the first words spoken by the j
young husbaud, after sitting?down to the ta- v
ble; and the manner iu which they were ( t
uttered, left Ida in no doubt as to his state ! ^
of feeling. How suddenly was the fine gold | f
dimmed. i a
A few hours earlier the young husband j c
had called in to see his mother, an orderly, J v
industrious woman, and a notable housekeep- 1
er. As usual, he was full of the praise of ] '
his beautiful young wife, in whom he had j e
seen nothing to blame?nothing below per- s
fection. But his mother had looked on her v
with different eyes. Living in the world t
was, with her, no holiday affair, and marri
age no noneymoon. cue was too serious in t
all her views and feelings to have much pa- s
tience with what she esteemed mere playday s
life. A little jealous of her son's affection, v
she was, withal; and its going forth to an- o
other, with an ardor so different from what
it had ever gone forth to herself made her j
feel cold toward the dear little wife of Ed- c
ward, who was its favored object. r
"It is time," she said, with a distance of 1
manner that surprised her son, "for you and c
Ida to be a little serious. The honeymoon a
is over, and the quicker you come down to
sober realities the better. There is one thing t
about Ida that rather disappoints me." 1
Edward was too much surprised at thii
unexpected annunciation to speak. Hii
mother went on,
"She's no housekeeper "
"She's young, mother. Sho'll learn," lit
mid interrupting her.
"She had no right to marry until she knew
low to make a gupof tea !" The old ladj
>poke with considerable asperity.
"Mother!"
"I say just what I mean. Not a single
;up of tea have I yet tasted in your house,
hat was fit to drink ! I don't know how
rou can put up with such stuff. You wouldn't
tave done it at my table, I'm very sure."
"Please, mother, don't talk so any more
bout Ida ! I can't bear to hear it."
"You can't bear to hear" the truth, Edrard.
I speak for Ida's good and your own,
oo. She's a wife, now; not a mere sweetleart.
And she's your housekeeper besides)
nth something more to do and to care for,
han dress, music, party going and enjoyBent.
I must say, as I said a little while
go, that I am disappointed in her. What
re girls thinking about now-a-days, when
hey get married?" Surely, not of theii
msband's household comforts."
"If you ^please, mother, we will change
he subject," said the young man, wbo was
xceedingly pained by the strong language
te had heard. He spoke so firmly that the
natter was dropped, and. not again alluded
o at the time. We
have, now, an explanation of the
ihange in the young husband's state of mind,
["here were some truths in what his mother
iad said, and this made it so muoh the barter
to bear. The first shadow had fallen,
hat dimmed the brightness of his new and
tappy life.
Still the defects in Ida?very small to his
yes, even after they were pointed out by his
nother?were things of no moment. He
iad not intended her for a household drudge.
iVasshe not loviDg hearted, accomplished
md beautiful? What more could he ask?
Frue, he had intended her for the presiding
;enius of his home; and there were sober,
natter-nf-fact things to be done in all homes,
lut her devotion to these would come in
:ood time.
How Edward came to speak as he did aK)ut
the tea and toast, was, almost on the
stant he had given utterance to his words,
. mystery to himself. He startod with the
tart he gave his young wife, and trembled
? A! -ir.-i -p L! t_!_ ii J
or me euecc 01 ms unKinaiy uuerea worus.
le would have given much could he have
ecalled them. But they were said beyond
ny power of unsaying.
The reference of his mother to the iudiferent
tea with which she had been served
t his table, had not only mortified him, but
uade some things distinct in his memory,
rhich before, were only seen dimly, and as
natters of indifference. Where all was so
right, why should he turn his eyes upon a
ew fragments of clouds skirting the fairhorzon
? He would not have done so if left to
limself. The clouds might have spread unil
very much larger than a man's hand, beore
their murky aspect would have drawn
lis happy vision from the all-pervading hapliness.
Ida's hand, which was raising a cup toher
ips, fell almost as suddenly as if palsied ; a
ialenes9 overspread her countenance; her
ips had a motion between a quiver and a
pasra. From her eyes, which seemed bound,
8 by a spell, to her husband's face, teare
oiled out and fell in large drops over her
heeks.
Never before, since Edward had looked
ipon that dear, young face, had he seen its
irightness so veiled. Never before, had a
rord of his been answered by anything but
miles and love responses.
"I'm sorry, Edward." How the sad,
remulous voice of Ida rebuked the young
lusband's unkindness. "It shall not be so
gain."
And she kept her word. Suddenly he had
wakened her from a bright, dreamy illusion,
die had beeu in a kind of fairy land. The
ard, every-day working world, with its couiion
working-day wants, by au unlooked-for
hifting of scenery, had struck with an unjvely
aspect upon her startled vision ; the
ngged edges of the real wounding paimully
ier soft ideal. But once awakened, she nevr
slept again. It was the first shadow that
ell dimly and coldly upon her married heart,
?the first, and to the life-experieuced, we
leed not say the last.
Burnt toast and bad tea ! To think that
omrnon things like these should have power
o shadow a young heart basking in the sun>ght
of love ! Ida had thought of her hus>and
as almost indifferent to the vulgar wants
lis words made manifest. She saw clearer
iow. He was but flesh and blood like the
est.
Very?very tenderly spoken were all the
rords of Kdward to his young wife, during
he shadowed evening that followed this first
limming of their home-light. And Ida who
elt the kindness of his heart, tried to smile
nd to seem as of old. But, somehow, she
:ould not force into existence the suiiles she
fished to send out as tokens of forgiveness.
Thoughts of the bad tea and burnt toast, the
'usual"?ah! there lay the smart!?evening
mtertainment she had provided ; or, rather,
uffered to be provided by unskilful hands?
rere her owu any more skilful ? for her reurning
husband haunted her all the while.
"It shall not be so again !" Not idly utered
were these words. All the evening
he kept repeating them to herself, with a
teadily increasing purpose and a clearer
j -l..1i 1 .1 .
isiou. ".Duwaru suaw uever nave anoiner
ccasion for rebuke."
Several times during the cveuiDg, the
oung husband was tempted to refer to the
onversation held with his mother, in cxplalation
of his own conduct, but he wisely
:ept his own counsel. Of all things he
Ireaded an estrangement between his wife
ind mother.
On the next morning, Edward noticed
hat his young wife left their chamber earier
than usual, and went down stairs. Not,
s 'however, to filL-their home with music, aj
} she had often done. Her mativce was th<
: singing tea-kettle, not the stringed piano.?
She had a heightened color, when she toot
? her place at the breakfast table, and pourec
for her husband the fragrant coffee,t made bj
' her o.wn bands, because she had discovered
' that her indifferent cook was ignorant of hei
art. How did she know the. art? It wat
almost accidental; the reoollection of some
i good hoasewife's talk had served her in the
, right time. The warm praise bestowed bj
Edward on the coffee was ample reward.
Ida bought a cook book during the day.
That sounds romantic. But it was even so;
and she studied it for hours. During the afternoon
her mother-in-law came in; and Ida
> urged her to stay to tea. The old lady ac,
cepted the invitation; not, we are sorry tc
say, in the very best spirit. She had opened
, the war on Edward's "butterfly" young wife
( and she meant to follow it up. When Ed
ward came home and found that his mothei
i was there his spirits fell. He saw, by the
; oorners of her mouth, that she had not fori
gotten their interview of the preceding day,
1 and that her state of wind was not a whit
more charitable. Ida's face was a little
i shadowed; but she was cheerful, and very
i attentive to his mother?and, happily, ignoi
rant of her true. feelings. She came and
went from the breakfast room to the parlor,
frequently, evidently with household cares
upon her mind.
Tea was at length announced. Edward's
heart trembled. His mother arose, and with
rather a cold air, aooompanied her children
to the room where the evening meal a waited
them. The table had an attractive look,
new to the eyes of both Edward and his
mother. It was plain that another hand be;
sides the servant's had been there, Ida
i poured the tea, and Edward served the hot
i biscuit and cream toast. The eyes of the
latter were on his mother, as she lifted, with
an air which he understood tq, say, "Poor
stuff!" the cup of tea to herlips. She tastas)
<Ka fvoivMttt ' ent tlin Aim ntrn
cu tuu uogioui ucvciogc ocb bou tuy uvnu
?lifted'and tasted again. The infusion was
faultless! Yes, even to her critical taste.
Next the biscuit, and next the toast were
tried. Mrs. Goodfellow herself could not
have surpassed them.
"Have you changed your cook?" The
olc[ lady looked across the table, ciiriously at
Ida.
"No, mother," answered the young wife,
smiliDg. 'Only the cook has Tound a mistress."
"Is all this your work, Ida?" The old
lady spoke in a half incredulous tone.
"Yes, it is all my work. Don't you think,
if I try hard, I'll make a housekeeper in
time ?"
This was so unexpected, that the husband's
mother was delighted. Ida had gone right
home to her matter-of-fact, every-day heart.
"Why, yes, you precious little darling !"
she aoswered, with an enthusiasm almost
foreign to her character. "I couldn't have
done better myself."
The shadow passed from the heart of Ida,
as her eyes rested on tbe pleased countenance
of her husband. It was the first shadow
that had fallen since their happy wedding
day, and moved on quickly; but its memory
was left behind. It was like the drawing of
a veil, which partly conceals, yet beautifies a
countenance, revealing the enchanted expression.
Ida's husband was a man, like the rest,
with man's common wants and weaknesses;
and her married world one in which hands
must take hold of common duties. But she
soon learned that, in the real world, were
real delights, substantial and abiding.
Bravely she did walk in the new path that
lay at her feet. She had her reward. Tea
and toast but expressed her household duties,
none of which were rightly performed during
that delicious honeymoon. But she
failed in nothing afterward; and soon learni
ed that the protind in which true hnnnines.s
takes deepest root, and from which it springs
up with strongest branches is the ?rcund of
common, homely duties.
COUNTERFEITING.
Bank note counterfeiting is one of the
most common and profitable modes in whioh
ingenious rascality is exercised in thin country.
Perhaps throughout the whole land it
| would be difficult, to find nn adult who has
' not at some period been victimized by a
counterfeited or altered note, whilst those
who are in the habit of receiving much money
are frequently imposed upon. Yet this
roguery is allowed to go on increasing, encouraged
by the impunity with which it is
committed and the rich return it renders,
without any serious attempt, either by the
Banks themselves or through protective legislation,
to prevent its continuance. In KngI
land the forgery of Bank notes occurs only
| at rare intervals, and the reason of this is
j that especial precautions are taken to render
j it both difficult and dangerous. With regard
to the Bank of Eugland notes, this safety is
secured by some peculiar and interesting
characteristics of manufacture, the paper being
distinguished by its colur, which is a peculiar
white, such as is neither sold in the
shops, nor used for any other purpose; by
; its thinness and transparency, qualities whioh
| prevent any of the printed part of the note
j beiDg washed out by turpentine, or removed
j by the knife, unless a hole is made in the
| place thus practiced on j by its oharacter feel,
j a peculiar crispness and toughness, by which
i those accustomed to handle it, distinguish
I the true notes iustantlv : the wire or water
! mark, which is produced ou the paper when
! in the state of pulp, and which is easily
distinguished from a mark stamped on
' after the paper is completed; the three <deckI
lc' edges?the mould contains two notes
! placed lengthwise, which arc separated by a
j knife at a future stage of the process, this
! j deckle or wooden frame of the paper mould
I producing the peculiar eflect seen on the edI
ges of uncut paper, and this edging being
caused when the paper is in a state of pulp,
precludes any successful imitation after the
paper is made; also by the strength of the
s paper, which is made from new linen and
j cotton. In its "water leaf" or unsited con
dition, a bank note will support thirty-six
[ pounds; and when one grain of size has been
I diffused through it, it will lift half a hundred
r weight.
1 It is a question which may well be conr
sidered, whether, in this country, legislation
\ is not requited to impose npon our banks the
! necessity of adopting every precaution that
i chemical discovery or scientific art may afr
ford to render the counterfeiting of their
notes as nearly impracticable as possible.?
The banks lose nothing by counterfeits, as
I their employees, by long experience, become
expert in their detection, and are, therefore,
l careless, if not averse, to adopting precau
tions that would involve some expense in
? preparing and printing their notes; but it is
i ouiu\/icuujf uunyuoj nc buiuiij tum tuo puui
lie are entitled to some protection in this
matter, and that the corporations issuing the
notes are the parties who should be charged
i with the duty of protecting their issues, as
far as may be from the possibility of fraudu,
lent imitation.?Bait. American.
: IliscellaitiMS pairing
1 From the Camden Journal.
A VISIT TO BOCK-HILL.
i Mr. Editor ;?Having recently paid a visit
to Rock-Hill, in York District, by the in,
vitatiou of a friend; I am induced?if you
will give place in your paper?to remark
concerning some of the impressions received,
i which bear forcibly, especially in comparison
with our own District. When I arrived
at the place, 1 supposed it was only a mere
, way-station on the Columbia and Charlotte
Railroad, but soon found this an erroneous
impression, when I had looked around and
saw things in their proper light. And here,
let me premise by saying that this place furnishes
an instance nf the henefini*! pffpot
i, wbich the advocates of the Temperance reform
have produced; for, at one time, as I
have been credibly informed, it was one of
, the dark spots of York District. Dissipation
never found so warm a reception as there.?
If so, then indeed a change has taken place;
, for now, a more orderly, quiet peaceable village,
I have never seen; and the business
done, speaks well for the energy and activity
of the people. It has a full complement
of mercantile depots, the proprietors of which
are all energetic and polite, keeping up a
spirit of trade that draws large numbers of
people frora the surrounding oountry, who
make it their market for all their supplies;
and also for their cotton, which commands
as good prices there as any point this side of
, Charleston; besides an abundance of provisions
are bought and sold, and large quantities
shipped to other places.
The mechanical trades are also well represented.
It has its carriage, tin and cabinet
manufactories?tailor and blacksmith
shop, gentlemen's Furnishing Store, and
others; clearly showing that the spirit of industry
and enterprifj has found its way
there, and is doing much for the benefit of
its own people, as well as of those who find
it convenient and accessible.
It has also a Post Office, with Mr. H. F.
Broach as post-master, who, as the proprietor
of a Grocery establishment, finds it to be a
profitable business, and that without (as many
deem indispensable) keeping ardent spirits;
for he holds another position, and one
which reflects far more credit. He is the
Worthy Patriarch of Rock Hill Division,
No. 33?being one among the many found
in that district, and which, in a few years,
have totally changed public opinion?have
placed in the ascendant the star of Temperance,
beneath whose gentle ray vice and
crime have flown away. I had the pleasure
of attending several of the meetings of this
Division, which convinced me that the zeal
in the temperance cause was not alone confined
to Yorkville, at which place I was present
at its late grand demonstration, but that
here was furnished another outlet, and one
through which blessings immediate had
been dispensed, sweeping away former scenes
of continued dissipation and ruin, and planting
in its stead, the sweet and placid feelings
of love, purity and affection. This Division (
numbers some eighty members, and about (
the same of Lady-Visitors, including among
the former, the leading men of the oommuty,
together with a large array of intelligent ,
and interesting young men, who are early (
and spiritedly devoting their efforts to the j J
propagation and dissemination of those great ,
truths which have so signally benefitted
man, and of that class who are ever on the ^
side of virtue, if induced by the presence of ,
woman. And this is a feature in connection ^
i with temperance organizations, which has
I proved more effectual than any way yet inj
troduced, to assist in the stay of the great
vice of intemperance; for it has demonstrated (
nnnr?llicit?*ilv that, flllP whfiQP walk ifi in t.llfi
w?? ? ?'v.j, -
private paths of life?whose province is the
domestic hearth?wields an influence great,
though unobtrusive; effectual though silent.
In a word, that virtue has erected her altar
where she presides as Priestess, and that in
thus being commissioned to prosecute a high
and exalted destiny, God has evidenced the
position which is properly and only hers?
the one which His providence intended,
when to bless man, he created her to be his
helpmate?the sharer of both his joys and j
sorrows.
"Noble woman can true converts make, .
We love the precepts for the teacher's sake:
Virtue in her appears so bright and gay, '
We bear with pleasure, and with pride obey." ]
I was indeed much pleased with every- <
thing in connoction with this Division, not <
only at their large attendance, but especial- i
ly with the plan by which much is contribu- 1
ted to the interest of the meetings?that is, 1
the delivering of addresses by members ap- I
pointed from time to time. While there, I |
heard one of these from Mr. Gadsden Alston, i
a young man of decided promise, and whose !
effort did oredit to his head as well as his <
heart, and honor to the parents who reared
Li ilk. . ; - * * *, -1.. ?, ^ ,ft
The principle feature which impressed me
most with its importance, is the large and
excellent School, under the care and control
of Gen. John A. Alston, a gentleman of high
tone, urbane manner,- and a ripe scholar?in
whose company, and at whose house I spent
tn agreeable and entertaining time. His
school numbers some sixty or seventy pupils,
and from their respectful and gentlemanly
deportment, an observer mav easily discover
the effect of the system of instruction there
inculcated, which suggests to the mind
the great difference existing between this
and other schools; where it is almost sore
destruction to send a young man, no matter
how well trained, or how deeply planted may
have been the precepts taught him by fond
and anxious parents. Look to it ye fathers
who would see your sons grow up elevated,
refined and intellectual; place them under
the care nnd tuition of good and conscientious
men, who would scorn to take your money;
and by indifference aud neglect?fbr
want of a good example and the .will to enforce
obedience, ruin your sons, uproot all
the virtues received under the parental roof,
for those vices which have blotted out some
of the noblest minds that ever to man was
given; brought shame and disgrace to themselves,
and sorrow and misery to those who
bore them. That is a place well calculated,
from its advantages, for the establisment of
an institution upon a larger scale. With excellent
society, a Urge neighborhood, extending
some three miles?the upper part of
which is called Ebenwer?it furnishes in itself
a sufficiency of pupils to keep in success
< J a
iui upuiativjii, a mr?c auu nounsaiiig lutjiuutioa,
if the people of both would unite and
concentrate their efforts, and thus supply the
means of a fiuished education?or at least
a thorough preparation for others?to their
children, and at bouie, where, with the influence
of the parent, united with that of the
teacher, there might be laid a groundwork
upon which the superstructure would be safe
and secure.
There is also another ixoellent school for
males, taught by Mr. Shurlcy, an able and
successful teacher, as well as a Female School,
taught by Miss Henry.
There are other features equally interesting
in connection with this place, which
might be mentioned, but I must bring-(his
sketch to a close Pleasant and truly agreeably
has been my visit to Rock Hill, and acquaintance
with its people, and long will it
be remembered. D.
CURIOUS TABLE OF FIGURES.
Just band this table to a lady and request
her to tell you in which oolumns her age is
contained?add together the figures at top
of the columns in which her age iB found,
and you have the great secret. Thus, suppose
herage to be seventeen. You will find the
nnmber seventeen only in two columns, viz:
the first and the fifth, and the first figures at
the head of these columns make seventeen.
Here is the magic table :
1 2 4 8 10 .32
3 3 5 9 17 33
ft 6 0 10-18 34
7 7 7 11 19 35
9 10 12 12 20 36
11 11 13 13 21 37
13 14 14 14 22 38
15 15 15 15 23 39
17 18 20 24 24 40
19 19 21 25 25 41
21 22 22 26 26 42
23 23 23 27 27 43
25' 26 28 28 28 44
27 27 29 29 29 45
29 30 30 30 30 46
31 31 31 31 31 47
33 34 36 40 48 48
35 35 37 41 49 49
37 38 38 42 50 50
39 39 39 43 51 51
41 42 44 44 52 52
43 43 45 45 53 53
45 " 46 46 54 54 54
47 47 47 47 55 55
49 50 52 56 56 56
51 51 53 57 57 57
53 54 54 58 58 58
55 55 55 59 59 59 1
57 58 60 GO 60 60
59 59 61 61 61 61
61 62 62 62 62 62
63 63 63 63 63 63 j
Anecdote of Gen. Harney.?In personal
appearance, Gen. Harney is impres- 1
sive. He is considerably over six feet tall, 1
snd is large-boned and muscular. His hair j
was red, but is now thickly mixed with white. 1
He wears it short, and begins to be bald on (
the crown of his head. His moustaches 1
ind beard are nearly white, and are also '
ihick and chipped short. Ilis eyes are blue 1
ind dull; for he uses spectacles. Iu youn- '
;er years, he must have been a model of I
physical vigor and strength, but he now looks
jlder than he really is, for his age, I believe, 1
3oes not exceed fifty-five. While at St. Louis, '
[ heard an anecdote illustrative of his char- '
icter, which I have never seen in print. Be- 1
mg in New York, many years ago, he passed
i store in one of the principal streets in :
which an auctioneer was soliciting bids for '
in engraving of Gen. Jackson. Both the
seller and the crowd were no political friends i
>f the subject of the picture, and were rid- ]
iculing it in every possible manner. "How <
much am I offered for the Hero of New Or- \
leans 1" cried the man on the stand. "On- i
ly half a cent ? Why, he's worth a cent 1
jurely after robbing the Bank. Make it a i
;ent, won't you, gentlemen ? Now, then, <
bow much am I offered ? "One hundred i
dollars," said a voice very emphatically, as 1
Col. Harney entered the door j "one hun- ]
dred dollars, Sir," he repeated, making his i
way through the crowd, half a head taller !
than any other man in the room. The auc- i
tioneer, naturally astonished, inquired if the 1
gentleman was in earnest, and started again i
an his witticism. "Sir, I am in earnest, and 1
[ claim my bid," interrupted the Colonel, i
['and if no one bids more, I olaim the pio- <
turn.'7 No one bidding more, he handed
the auctioneer the money end hie address-?
"And now, Sir/' he remarked, seising him
by the collar and dragging hint to the floor,
"I claim the privilege of applying the bAti ado
to yonr body for your damnable impertinence."
And having caned him to bis satisfaction,
no one in the crowd venturing to
interfere, be strode ant of the store and continued
his walk down the street. Analyse
the quality of character neoessary to a man
to be the actor in such a scene, and I think
you will disoover the traits which military
men Consider to fit fJen. Harney eminently
as the leader of this Utah expedition. ~ ~
Correspondence of the Tribune.
THE NASHVILLB CONVENTION.
' B. Lane- Posey touches off some of the
notables of the Knotville Convention in the
following style, for the Marion (Alabama)
American:
THR ThHTTVOTHSHFTl MFN ?T mnof PAn.
elude this letter, and I will do it by a brief
mention of the celebrities \rho were present.
To begin with the President, I mention Prolessor
DeBow, of Louisiana, the editor of
Dcbow's Review. He is a small and coarse
looking man, witE prominent features. Not
by any means brilliant, he is a monument of
patient labor,' raised to distinction by unceasing
effort. He was the head of the censns
bureau, uoder Mr. Pierce, and superintended
the statistics of the census of 1850.
Although Alabama was largely represented,
there was no genuine celebrity or man
of mark among them. David Hubbard, of
North Alabama, was the chairman of the
delegation. He is a plain, blunt, honest
man, but otherwise he did not particularly
impress me. However, I like him.
From Georgia, the most striking tnan is
Ben. Yancey, now of Atlanta. He was the
President of the last Senate in Alabama.?
Very handsome, of fine figure, with faircouiplexion,
light hair, blue eyes, golden spectacles,
composed and easy iu manner, he has
a very scholarly and impressive appearance.
A man who sees him once, will turu to look
again; a woman who looks once, will look all
the time. Mr. Yancey is a man of decided
talents, but a good deal milder, and less emphatic
than his Alabama brother. I have
known him since I was a bo;, and always
admired him.
. Mr. Overby, the Maine Liquor Law candidate
for Governor of Georgia in 1^55, was
chairman of the Georgia delegation. He is
a grave, dignified and benevolent looking
man.
From Tennessee, the most noticeable persons
werc.Coh Sneed and Horace Mayoard.
The former, the member from the Knozville
District, in tb"e last Congress, and Mr. Maynard,
the member elect tothe next Congress.
Both are Americans, and both men of talent.
The first man of the South Carolina delegation
is the Hon. W. W. Boyce, for several
years past a member of Congress. He is
about thirty-five years old, but looks younger,
and is a very handsome man. He is very
reserved and taciturn, and rarely engages in
conversation He speaks fluently, and there
is always pointedness, force and pith in his
speeches. There is nothing about the man
or his speeches of the common-place and
hackneyed order. I always listen to him
with interest and pleasure.
Mr. Bryan, of South Carolina, is, on account
of his physique, "the observed of all
observers." He is very large in person, and
has a beard which a Spanish Don or a French
Marquis might envy. It is fifteen inches
long, as fine as "split silk," and dark as
Erebus. He wears an ample Byron collar
without a cravat. He is an elegant and
much esteemed gentleman, and has very respectable
talents.
Hon. James Lyons, of Virginia, is a fine
specimen of a Virginia gentleman. Apparently
over fifty years, he seems mature, but
not old. He is composed, self-possessed and
courteous in manner. He is an able lawyer,
and is vciy formidable in discussion.
The young Heronles of the Convention is
Roger A. Pryor, of Virginia, the editor of
the "South." I heard the question asked
a dozen times, "how old is he ?" He looks
so young as to cause surprise at the distinction
he has attained. He is just turned of
twenty-eight years, though he does not appear
to be over twenty-one. He is small in
person, not exceeding 125 pounds in weight,
has sharp, prominent features, very long
black hair combed behind his ears, and a
dark brunette complexion. He has a clear
musical voice, the first tone of which attracts
attention and commands silence. He is an
ingenious and able debater, and an eloquent
declaimcr. In politics he is an ultra State
rights and Southern rights man. Pure in
his principles, lofty in bis patriotism, bold,
aarnest and defiant in his advocacy of right,
he seems like a Rienzi amidst the sad degeneracy
of the latter days of the Roman
Empire. As Rienzi was the last of the Roman
Tribunes, so I fear Pryor will be the
last of the Southern Tribunes. Virginia
has fallen from her high estate, and the
South is brutalized, sold and lost forever.?
rhe voices of a few patriots may sound the
llarm, but their voices are unheard or unheeded.
I must not omit a notice of Brownlow, the
man of mystery and fame. Everybody has
heard of Brownlow, and everybody is anxious
to see him. It was partly to see him
that I went to Knoxville. He is of medium
size, firmlv knit together, a brunette in
' * CI / ?
hair, eyes and complexion. His features are
sharp, pointed and firm, indicating great enJrgy,
firmness and courage, physical and moril.
A bright eye gives a flash of intelligence
to his face. He is a modest, quiet and unpretending
man, as gentle as a dove to his
friends, but as fierce as a hyena to bis foes.
He has had many fights, shot several men
ind been shot several times, yet I dare say
be has never yet been in the wrong. It is
i popular error to suppose that because men
bave numerous fights, that therefore they
ire quarrelsome. The most mischievous and
quarrelsome mea are those who sever fight,
while those men who are called "duellists,"
are the most inoffensive and peaceable men
(if let alone) that I have ever known. I vu
introduced to Brownlowby Mr.* Yancey, but
is he was very busy, I did not see much of
him/ T learned that Brownlow was a popular
atid much esteemed man about home.?
fie certainly deserves to be, and I was glad
to Hear it.
There were many others In the Convention
whom T should like to notice, but apace
will not permit. I was pleased to meet an
old* friend/den."Williams, of 8ontb Carolina.
He was Captain of the Newberry company
in the Palmetto Regiment, and feasted
with me ten years ago in the "halls of the
Montetnmas." I also met' my only uncle
but one, Dr. Sam. Sample, of Mississippi.
He is an awful Democrat, and almost abed
tears over my political errors. If there is a
Democratic heaven prepared for the faithful,
he will certainly get there.
Outside of the Convention there ere * few
celebrities. Last night I met Geo. Pillow
at the ball. The last time I saw hint was
ten years ago, in the oity of Mexioo. He
still walks lame, from a terrible wound which
be received at Cbapultepeo. He led his
division, in person, in the charge on that
castle, and had his thigh shattered by* a
grape shot. He made his men take him ot
a blanket, and continue the.charge with him
at the head. He has some faults, and is aiu
ambitions and bitter man, but he is as brave
a man as lives, He is a candidate for the
United States Senate, and having sooh competitors
as Andy Johnson, and "lean Jimmy
Jones," I wish him entire success. ;.;v .
Mrs. iVIcCorg, of. New Orleans, the Editress
of the Parlor Magazine, has been here
during the Convention. She is a tall, 'finelooking
matron, and attracted much attention.
.She liked attention, and she had it*
HOW TO FALL ASLEEP.
"The great point to be gained in order to
secure sleep is escape from thought, especially
from that clinging, tenacious, imperious
thought which, in most cases of wakefulness,
has possession of the mind. X always efiefct
this by the following simple process: I tarn
toy eyeballs as far to the right or left, or upward
or downward, as I can without pain,
and then commence rolling them slowly,
with that divergence from a direct hoe of
tision, around in their soekets, and continue
doing this until?I fall asleep; which occurs
generally within three minutes, and always
within five at most. The immediate
effect of this procedure differs from that of
any other which I ever heard, to procure
sleep. It not merely diverts thought into a
new channel, but actually suspends ?t.
' Since I became aware of this, I have endeavored
innumerable times, while thus rol- .
Hog my eyes, to think upon a particular subject,
and even upon that which before kept
me awake, but I could not. As long as they
were moving around, my mind was a blank.
If any one doubts this, let him try the experiment
for himself. I wish he would; let
him pause just here, and make i.. I venture
to assure him that if he makes it in good
faith, in the manner described, the promise
of 'a penny for his thoughts,' or for each of
them while the operation is in progression,
will add very little to his wealth. Such being
its effect, we cannot wonder that it shoud
bring sleep to a nervous and wakeful man at
night. The philosophy of the matter is very
simple. A suspensien of tbonght is to the
mind what a suspension of travel or labor is
to the weary body. It enjoys the lnxnry of
rest; the strain upon its faculties removed,
it fails asleep as naturally as the farmer in
his chair, after toiling all day in his fields."
?Dr. Binn.
Blitz Among the Lunatics.?Yesterday
afternoon Signor Blitz kindly gav8 It voluntary
exhibition of his skill in legerdemain x
and ventriloquism at the Insane Asylum at ^
South Boston. Between fortv and fiftv of
? ? ?
the females, whose mental condition would
allow of their being present, witnessed the
performances, and were highly delighted with
the marrellons dexterity of the magician'*
illusions and transformations. The men, for
the most part, were still, and very deeply interested,
while the woman were fall of
laughter and glee. One man, who graduated
at Harvard with distingnshed honors, and
who for some two years has exhibited no interest
in things abouc him, entered heartily
into the spirit of the performanoe, and, like
Chevalier Meuprat, applauded in the proper
time and place. Another patient was so delighted,
that he proposes to give the signor
two hundred dollars. Tho effect upon the
several patients was widely different, some
laughing outright, others exhibiting a lively
curiosity or staring with amazement, while
the faces of a few were as black as the wall
at which they gazed. The company were
highly delighted with the Signer's trained
canaries, who performed excellently. Bat
the most successful portion of the exhibition
was the display of ventriloquial powers, in
which the magioian is without a rival. It
was a gratifying right in witness the shades
of expression flit across the countenances of
these unfortunates, as the different imaginary
personages conversed with the Signor.?
The performances occupied about an hour,
and was given in Blitz's best style; intact,
he seemed to take peculiar pleasure in thns
administering to the gratification, of these
afflicted people.?Boston Transcript.
J&* A lady was recently teaching a boy
to spell. The boy spelled c-o-l-d, bat conld
not pronounce it. In vain his teacher asked
him to think, and try. At last Bhe asked
him:
"What do yon do when you go out upon
the wet sidewalk on a rainy day, and wet
your feet ?"
"I gets a licking."
Paf* A culprit being asked what he had to
say why sentence of death should not be recorded
against him, replied : "He had
nothing to say as too much had been said
about it already."