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lewis m. grist, Proprietor, j Jlnbejpbcni Jtftnilij ffctospaptr: Jfor flic ^promotion of tjjt political, .Social, ^grinillitral anb Cottttttcrrial interests of tjjc Sou(|j. jTERMS--$2.50 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. "VOL. 31. YOIIKVILLE, S~ C., THURSDAY, JTJLY 3Q, 1885. NO. 31. ?t toted foetrg. LOVE OP COUNTRY. [Sir Walter Scott (1771?18.12) first won literary fame as a poet, though he is now known chiefly as the author of the incomparable Waverly Novels. His vivid imagination was early tired by the romantic Border stories so numerous in Southern Scotland. His novel and original style of poetry was greeted with applause, and held popular favor until eclipsed by the more brilliant effusions of Byron. The finest of his longer poems are The Lady of the Lake, Marmion and The Lay of the Last Minstrel. One's admiration of Scott is increased by the fact that he was a good and honorable man as well as a brilliant poet and novelist.] Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said. This is my own, my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned From wandering on a foreign strand ! ? --.L- 1. u:.? . ii suca mere oreauie, gu, mam mm , For hi in no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ; Despite those titles, power and pelf, The wretch, concentrated all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To tho vile (lust, from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung. 0 Caledonia! stern and wild, Meet nnrse for a poetic child! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood, Land of my sires ! what mortal land Can e'er untie the filial band That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems, as to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams were left; Aud thus I love them better still, .Even in extremity of ill. Bv Yarrow's streams still let mo stay, Though none should guide my feeble way ; Still feel the breeze down Ettick break, Although it chill my withered cheek ; Still lav my head by Teviot stone, Though there forgotten and alone, The bard may draw his parting groan. ftte?eller. MY LUCK IN" A TUNNEL. AN OLD MINER'S STORY. I am an old miner. Not one of the nowaday stripe, but an old 1849 Californian miner. I have been engaged in all description of mining transactions, except the new-fangled one of mining stock in companies?"feet," I believe they call it. Among my varied undertakings was one operation in a tunnel, in which I and my partners engaged in the summer of 1852. One afternoon in that year, as 1 was carrying up a bucket of water from the river to our tent at the top of the bank, my foot caught under a large stone, and my perpendicular was at once changed to a horizontal posture, while the water from the overturned bucket spread itself in various directions. 1 raised myself to my feet again, and nicking ud the bucket was about to retrace my steps to the river, when my attention ^ was attracted by a folded paper, which had been placed under the stone causing my fall. When my foot tripped, the stone was overturned, and the paper, folded in letter form, lay exposed to view. Bending over, I picked it up, and proceeded to examine it. It was written with pencil, in characters very'irregular and stiffly formed, as if made by a person with a wounded hand. The contents were as follows: If this letter should fall into the hands of any person, I wish to inform them I have been attacked and mortally wounited by my two partners who wish to obtain iny money. Failing to discover it, after wounding me, they have lied, leaving me here to die. Whoever gets this letter will tind, buried in a ravine at the foot of a 'blazed' tree, twenty-live paces due north of this, a bag containing hVe thousand dollars in gold dust. That it may prove more fortunate property to him than it has to me, is the hope of? Andrew Forrest. I stood for a some minutes after reading the letter like one awakened from a dream. I could not convince myself that the letter in my hand was a genuine document, and read it over and over again, thinking I might get some clue from the handwriting to the real author. It might be a trick got up by my partners to raise a laugh at my expense. No, the place where it was found, and the purely accidental discovery, rendered such a surmise very improbable. I sat down on a log and turned the matter over in mv mind for some time. At last I got up, and pacing off the required distance in the direction mentioned in the letter, I '? ~ (~*c* rnflll 1 \7 Q VQ TY1 initKT camtr IU u migc ucc. vui^iuiij ? ! it, I discovered a scar clearly indicating that the tree had been "blazed" at some remote period. This was "confirmation strong as proof of Holy Writ;" and I immediately went to work to discover the locality of the ravine. Here I was at fault. Nothing of the kind was to be seen. To all appearances a stream of water never had passed in the neighborhood of the tree. This was not encouraging; and I sat down on the ground and read the letter again, to see if I had not mistaken some of its directions. No, I was in the right place, but where was the ravine? A tap on the shoulder aroused me from my meditation, and on looking up I saw my two partners, who loudly abused me for having neglected the preparation of their supper. As an excuse 1 showed them the letter, and detailed the manner of finding it. To my surprise, they were as much excited by its perusal as I had been, and looked around perseveringly for the ravine, but without effect for some time. At last Jack Nesbitt, who had been a miner since '48 said: "I think there has been a ravine here, but it has been filled up by the rains." On close examination we decided that his suspicion was correct, and after some consultation we determined that the next morning we would commence digging. Morning came and we repaired to the ----1 1 T.?l. Spot Wltn piCK HI1U snovoi. dtictv. jjiwjjuocu that we should follow the course of the ravine, which appeared to run into the body of the hill, rather than dig down in any one place. The result was that in a few days we had formed quite a cave in the side of the hill. We worked at this tunnel for four days without finding the bag. On the fourth day Jack proposed that he and my partner, Bill Jennings, should carry the dirt down to the river, and wash it, leaving me to dig in the tunnel. In that way, they thought, we might at least "make grub," while searching for the hidden money. I thought the idea foolish, but as they entered so eagerly into my views regarding the buried bag of dust, I made no objection to the plan, and dug away with redoubled energy. In fact, I had thought so much about the object of our search that I had become utterly regardless of anything else. I had dreamt of it when sleeDing. mused on it when waking, and it had obtained complete control of my mind. Day after day we worked?I digging and my companions washing; yet, strange to say, I did not become discouraged. They said nothing about the bag of gold dust and I asked them nothing about the result of their washing the excavated soil. We had worked about three weeks, and had formed a tunnel extending about fifteen feet into the hill, when on one afternoon, completely tired out, I sat down to rest in the cave. I had only intended to sit a little while, but five minutes had not elapsed before I was fast asleep. I was awakened by a crash, and found my feet and legs completely covered by a mass of dirt and stones. The front part of the tunnel had fallen in, and I was in a manner buried alive. About ? ten feet of the tunnel remained firm, and from my observation of its surface prior to the accident, I was convinced that I had no reason to apprehend danger in that quarter. My partners had carried dirt enough to the river to keep them busy for the rest of the day, so I had nothing to hope from their ' assistance. Thequestion that tirst presented itself to my mind was, How long can life be sustained in this confined state? I had read a dozen times statistics in relation to the amount of air consumed hourly by a human ! being's lungs, but, like almost almost everybody else, had merely wondered at the time and then forgot the figures. How much would I have given then to have been able to recall them ! The next thought was, How can I proceed to extri- j cate myself? This question was difficult of solution. If I went to work with shovel j and pick to clear away the dirt that had fallen, it was extremely likely that all which I could be able to remove would be immedi-1 ately replaced by that which would fall from * A -? a T above, 'inis was not pieasum. j. isu;ivcu , my brain to devise some means of liberating myself, but without effect. Leaning against the wall in utter de- j spondency, I was about to throw myself on 1 the ground and await my fate, when I observed quite a current of water, on a small1 scale, was making its way down the side of the cave. At first I was alarmed, as I thought it might loosen the earth above, and'bring another mass down on my head. The next moment the thought struck me that it might be turned to my advantage. | Why could I not so direct it that it would I wash away sufficient earth in its progress to ! the outlet of the cave to make an opening large enough to allow me to crawl through i it? If it only succeeded in making an airhole, it would enable me to exist till my | partners could come to my rescue. Carefully examining the course of the water, I succeeded in finding the spot where it entered the cave, and to my great joy ascertained that I could easily direct it by cut-; ting a channel out of the side of my pris' ' ? ? ' - ? 1 L. 11? ?-? ^ K1 /VAlrft/l II ti ^ V* A : On TO 1116 mass Oi rami mat uiut&cu u|f cue > i entrance to the tunnel. The air at this time ; I was quite hot and stifling, and I became aware that whatever was done must be done quickly, or I should perish for want of ox-, ygen. After I had cut a channel for water to flow toward the entrance, I enlarged the | opening by which the stream entered the | cave, and was delighted to observe that it! flowed with redoubled force. Taking my shovel I forced it through the moistened ; earth as far as I was able and then waited the further action of the water. In a few minutes I was enabled to push it still further, till at last it was out of my reach. Then placing my pick handle agaiust it, I pushed both as far as I could. With what eagerness did I watch to see the first opening made by the water, and I was soon gratified by ob- i serving that it flowed in a steady stream in the direction which I had pushed the pick and shovel. In a few minutes I discovered a faint glimmering in the distance, which might; be an opening or the effect of an excited imagination, I scarcely knew which. But1 the doubt soon resolved itself into a certainty, and an opening some five inches in diameter speedily disclosed itself. Larger and larger the opening grew; lump upon lump was washed away by the stream until the channel became large enough for me to place my head in and halloa lustily for \ assistance. Just as I was drawing my head j back I caught sight of a buckskin bag. i Hastily seizing it, I found it was the one we were in search of, and which, for the accident, I would never have found. Wishing to surprise my companions I concealed it and redoubled my cries. In a few minutes they came running up the hill, and soon liberated me from my unpleasant position. , On opening the bag we found about five j thousand dollars worth of gold. We could , never ascertain anything about Mr. For- j rest, so we divided the money among us. About Women's Feet.?"Do you think Denver women have pretty feet?" "Not as a rule. It takes Southern wo- j men for pretty feet. The most of them i have never walked much and their feet are i not at all spread. They have fine insteps [ and beautifully formed feet. They are aw-1 fully particular about their shoes." "Do ladies ever acknowlege that they : have sore feet?" j "Young ladies do not. They are so afflict-1 ed with corns, most of them, that we can see the protuberances through their stock ings, particularly since silk hosiery is so | much worn, but they won't own up and they are always remonstrating about their shoes being too large." "Is it so with old ladies?" "Xo indeed. Old ladies seldom care for style to that extent. They want comfort: and we manufacture it for them." "What class of women wear common- { sense shoes?" j "Literary women mostly and teachers. Shop girls usually wear stylish shoes and servant girls always wear French heels. Women who work with their brains can't afford to sacrifice -their feet. It lis not that they have no personal pride about their J shoes, but they very soon discover that com-1 fort and style do not go together in dressing i the feet. You can't get the slightest sugges- i tion of beauty into a common sense shoe; j that's a foregone conclusion, and so they give up trying it very early in life, and aside from their shoes being well made and comfortable you can't say much for their appearanee."?Denver Rtpublican. The Wonders of an Egg.?Every one ' who eats his breakfast egg eats a sermon and a miracle. Inside of that smooth, sym metrical, beautiful shell lurKs a question which has been the Troy town for all the philosophers and scientists since Ad- : am. Armed with the engines of war?the microscope, the scales, the offensive wea- j pons of chemistry and reason?they have j probed and weighed and experimented, and still the question is unsolved, the citadel unsacked. Prof. Bokorny can tell j you that albumen is composed of so many < molecules of carbon and nitrogen and hy-1 drogen, and can persuade you of the difference between active and passive albumen, and can show by wonderfully delicate experiments what the aldehydes have to do in the separation of gold from his compli-j eated solutions; but he can't tell you why from one egg comes a "little rid hin," and from another a bantam. You leave your silver spoon an hour in your egg cup, and it is coated with a compound of sulphur; why is that sulphur there? Wonderful that evolution should provide for the bones of the future hen. There is phosphorus also in that little microcosm and the oxygen of the air passing j through the shell, thus making good strong bones for the chick and at the same time thinning the prison walls. Chemists know a good deal now about the albumen, and if they cannot tell us why life differentiates itself therein and thereby, they can tell you how not to spoil your breakfast by overdoing your eggs. Painting Black Boards.?'There are two or three ways of preparing these boards, the finishing coat being the principal. The object to be obtained is a surface on which the chalk will make a clear and distinct mark, which will afterwards wash off and leave the board quite clear. If the board is a new one, it will require to be painted with, at the least, four coats of oil color, and finished with one or two coats of varnish - -i- ~_i.. ?.,t?, I C'OiOr; in mixing WIIICII uiuj sunuirm ><nnish (copal or best carriage) should be used as will bind the color fast, without being absorbent or fuzzy. The black should be ground in turpentine, then the varnish added, and should dry dead (or nearly so). This is an absolute necessity as chalk will not mark freely on gloss color. Another plan, which is a very good one, is to paint the board with (if new) three coats of oil color, then with two coats of varnish color? this having as much varnish added to it as will produce what is known as "egg-shell gloss." This should be allowed to become thoroughly hard, and then be cut down with felt and ground pumice. This is done simply to deaden the surface, and if after being rubbed down it is left again to harden, | a capital surface will be produced for the : work to be done. ' pates ii tt Jfamp Hands. SKETCHES OF TRAVEL IN SCOTLAND. by rev. r. batman. [Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.] East of Glasgow Cathedral, a few rods, is the Molendinar burn, "a brawling rivulet, whose waters, collected into a small basin, dash over an artificial cascade into a ravine below." Just beyond the Molendinar burn is a rocky bill of considerable extent, whose summit rises two hundred and twenty-five feet above the general level of the city. This was formerly known as Fir Park, but is now, by way of distinction, called Tiie Necropolis, or city of the dead. From the top of this hill a grand view of the city and surrounding country isootaineu. an passing from the Cathedral to the Necropolis, the Molendinar burn is crossed on a bridge, which is thought to be appropriately named the "Bridge of Sighs." The rocky hill now occupied by the Necropolis was at one time, it is said, covered with fir trees, and tradition relates was a famous retreat of the Druids. There are several burial grounds in the city of Glasgow. That which surrounds the Cathedral is the oldest, and the Necropolis, which overlooks it, is the most beautiful. When the first corpse was interred in the burial ground which surrounds the Cathedral, probably no one can tell. It was, no doubt, during the life time of theCulder Monk Kentigern. For more than twelve centuries the people of Glasgow have been burying their dead out of their sight in the rock plat of ground near the spot where the old Culder built his cell, about the middle of the sixth century. In this old burying ground there is nothing specially beautiful, but there is, however, a silent grandeur about it which fills the soul not with awe and dread, but with humility and reverence. What a vast multitude of human bodies have crumbled into dust in that comparatively small spot of ground. Thousands and tens of thousands lie sleeping there, waiting for the general resurrection. They are crowded together and heaped upon top of each other in endless confusion. The rich and the poor, the old and the young, saints knoAivt fot/m/lc! onrl Ki'ffor fnPQ illlU SllillCIS, uu.umi iiicuuoaim sleep there. The dust of more than three thousand generations of men . is scattered around the Cathedral of Glasgow. The Necropolis, which is separated from the Cathedral buryinggroundby the Molendinar burn, presents a very different appearance. It is tastefully laid out and ornamented in the most exquisite style. There are evidences, strong and convincing, of wealth and prosperity, of learning and refinement to be seen in every part of Glasgow, but the Necropolis is a convincing proof that the inhabitants of Glasgow are an enlightened people. There are those who boast that they care not what may be done with their bodies after life has become extinct. Happily for the peace and progress of society the number of such individuals is few. Whether it be instinct or the result of education, we need not enquire, it is a fact that those who decorate the graves of their dead with flowers love and respect their living friends. The want of sepulture was regarded by all civilized nations of antiquity as a grievous calamity. The temporal punishment which God inflicted upon Ahab, was that the dogs licked his blood and the blood of his wicked wife, Jezebel, and those of his descendants who died in the city were eaten by dogs, and those who died in the field were eaten by the fowls. The temporal curse which God inflicted upon Jehoiakim was that his dead body was dragged out of the city and buried with the burial of an ass. Not to be buried was regarded by the Jews as a most dreadful calamity. So it was regarded by the liomans, and so it is regarded by every civilized individual on earth to-day. Abraham bought a burial ground, and the last charge that Jacob gave his son Joseph was, "bury me with my fathers in the cave that is in the field of Ephron, the Hittite," and Joseph charged the children of Israel to carry up his bones out of Egypt. To neglect the graveyard is an evidence of either slavery or savage barbarity. To raise a monument to departed worth is an evidence of worth in those who erect the monument. A monument-building people are themselves worthy of a monument. From the banks of the Molendinar burn the hill, on which is the Necropolis, rises on the west end abruptly. The ascent is made by a series of spiral walks. The face of the hill on the west end is cut down and tombs cut out in the perpendicular wall. On the summit of the hill, peering above everything else, is a monument to John Knox. The space between the spiral walks is laid out into family burying plots, which are beautiful in design and kept in a style which commands the greatest admiration. As a whole, the Necropolis of Glasgow is one of the most charming places of sepulture on which the eye ever rested. There is nothing about it dingy or gloomy, but it has the new and fresh appearance of a triumphal arch covered with garlands of living flowers. All the surroundings are inspiring and send a thrill through the soul. The air is fresh and invigorating and the visitor as he stands amid the monuments erected to the memory of the great and the good, feels as if he had got above the plain of disappointed straffdinfs and nettv strifes, into a region where gratitude is the prevailing characteristic of the inhabitants. Death, if not deprived of its reality, is robbed of its gloom, and the desire to be something, and do something worthy of being remembered by generations yet unborn is, if not implanted, invigorated. The Necropolis was founded in 1828. The Jews bought a portion in the north-west corner. This was the first purchase that was made. The Jewish law does not permit them to bury their dead with Gentiles, hence the Jewish burial ground is cutoff. It is provided with all the conveniences necessary to the burying of the dead in conformity to the long established custom of the descendants of the patriarch Abraham, i The Jewish mode of interment is, in the main, the same that it was in the time of our Saviour. The idea which the Jews, and in fact, all other Oriental nations, had of death, was that of a departure, or a being gathered to their fathers. There is something in the idea which is very tender. It was calculated to awaken all the tenderest affections. This led them to perform their funeral ceremonies with scrupulous care. From the call of Abraham to the time of our Saviour, they were by rites and ceremonies, of divine appointment, "a peculiar people not reckoned with the nations," and to-day they are, on account of their rejecting Jesus Christ "a peculiar people not reckM'ith th?i nntiniw " Thpv hitv'p tin country, and there is said to be in the heart1 of every Jew a longing desire that his bones may find a last resting place "in the cave that is in the field of Machpelah." No people ever loved life more, or had a more correct estimate of life than the Jews. From ; the time of Abraham down to the time of our Saviour?a period of nearly two thou-; sand years, we have an account of but three 1 suicides?Saul, Ahithophel and the traitor Judas. Suicide among the Romans and other heathen nations was not only common, but was regarded as a virtuous act. Suicide among the Jews to-day is of rare occurrence, j So soon, among the Jews, as life is extin- j guished, the eyes of the deceased are closed by the nearest relation. This custom prevails to some extent among Christains. j The next thing done is the nearest relation j kisses the lifeless corpse. This is called the j parting kiss. The corpse is then washed. | in the Jewish part of the Necropolis of; Glasgow there is a place arranged for the i washing of bodies before they are buried. How often the bodies are washed I do not j know, probably several times in every case : and in some cases oftener than in others, j The idea of cleanliness and purity is wrought into the very nature of the Jew.; On entering the Jews' Burial Ground, as it is called, the first thing that attracts the attention of the visitor is a beautiful pillar, designed, it is said, in imitation of the pillar erected by the ungrateful Absalom in the king's day to perpetuate his name. On the front of the column is a curious piece of fret-work formed of the Hebrew letters in the first clause of the eleventh verse of the fifteenth chapter of Exodus. It is translated : "Who is like unto thee, O Lord, among the gods?" but I cannot write it so as to ?ive the reader a clearidea of the skill manifested in its execution. This pillar is covered all over with inscriptions significant and suggestive. As they are read over and over by one the thoughts run back to the time when Israel wrestled among the vineclad hills of the Promised Land, a happy and prosperous people, and the many sad events wnich have befallen them since their rejection of the Messiah crowd in upon memory. Strange thoughts rush into the mind and strange feelings are experienced. It is a feeling of sadness and sorrow. The pillar, or rather the inscriptions on the pillar, whether designed or not, present a sad picture of the seed of Abraham as they pre- ] sent themselves to-day In every land. On one side is engraved the foljowing: "A voice was heard in Itamah, lamentation and bitter weeping ; Rachel weeping for herchildren and refusing to he comforted for her children, because they were not. Thus saith the Lord ; refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears; for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord, and they shall come again from the land of the enemy. And there is hope in thine end,1 saith the Lord, that thy children shall come again to their own border." Jeremiah 31: hi?17. Opposite to the above is: "How hath the Lord covered the daughter of Zion with a cloud in his anger, and cast down from heaven to the earth the beauty of Israel, and removed not his footstool in the day of his anger." Lamentations 2:1. "But though he caused grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude U'o rv^nMm'nD Pah Ln /IaIK nnf offli/lf 1X71 1 yj L 1113 IIIC1CIUO* X \JL 11^ UVl/il UUt (UU1\.V m ?* lingly, nor grieve the children of men." Lamentatious 3: .32, 33. On the main shaft of the pillar are the following stanzas from Byron's Hebrew Melodies: "O ! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream, Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream ; Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell; Mourn?where their God hath dwelt the godless dwell. And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet? And when shall Zion's songs again seem sweet; And Judah's melody once more rejoiee The hearts that leaped before its heavenly voice? Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast, How shall ye flee away and be at rest; The wild dove hath her nest, the fox his cave, Mankind their country?Israel but the grave!" On this Absalom Pillar, I suppose it may be called, is portrayed in life-like colors the sad history of Israel. Confessedly without a country, and yet, not poor. Scattered everywhere, speaking every language and dialect but not his own. On the very summit of the Necropolis Hill is a monument erected to the memory of the great Scotch reformer, John Knox. It is not my purpose at present to write up the history of John Knox, or even briefly sketch his life. This I will do when I come to Edinburgh, the city in which his life labors were mainly performed and in which he lived, died ana was buried. As, however, the Monument at Glasgow is the first which was erected to his memory, it is proper that it be not passed over with a brief notice. From the inscription on one side we learn that the monument was erected on the 22nd Af GnrkfomKor 1QQ/V ThtO U?n? tiPVPffll U(IJ V/A WA-A f AUMV* J. I11W (I V?U WW . V.M. years before the cemetery, which surrounds it, was founded. The monument consists of a Doric column surmounted by a colossal statue of the stern old Reformer. The idea of erecting a monument originated with Rev. Stevenson MacOilI, D. D., Professor of Theology in the University of Glasgow. The funds necessary to defray the expenses of the undertaking were raised by voluntary subscription. The whole amount collected was six thousand eight hundred and eighty dollars. This was ahout three hundred and fifty dollars more than was required to complete the work. The statue presents John Knox, life-like, with a Bible in his outstretched right hand and his left across his breast. The statue cost four hundred dollars. The three hundred and fifty dollars collected bpt not expended in erecting the monument were permanently invested for the purpose of keeping the monument in repair. j The names of John Knox and Walter J I Scott exercise magical influence over the Scotch. They never tire talking of him who "never feared the face of Clay," or "the Wizard of the North." Every Scotchman is proud of John Knox, and well they may be. When the corner stone of the monument was laid in Glasgow, the whole city turned out to see it. Those immediately concerned in the work met at St. George's Church, where a sermon was delivered by Dr. Chalmers. The house was crowded to excess. The soul of Dr. Chalmers was aroused and he surpassed himself. From St. George's Church the vast throng, headed by Dr. MacGill, moved forward, in regular procession, to the Merchants' Park, as the Necropolis hill was then called. The procession having reached the spot selected for the erection of the monument, Dr. MacGill, after prayer by l)r. Burns, proceeded "to lay the foundation with all the honors usual on such occasions." This done and deposits of several kinds having been made, and the operative and master Masons having completed their part of the ceremony, Dr. MacGill pronounced the Masonic benediction : "May the Grand Architect of the Universe enable us successfully to carry on and finish the work, of which we have now laid the foundation stone, and every other undertaking which may tend to the advantage of the city of Glasgow and its inhabitants, and may this monument be long preserved from peril and decay." On each side of the monument there is an inscription. TheSe are too long to quote in full. That on the north side states that the monument was erected by voluntary contribution "to testify gratitude for inestimable-services" and "to Christ unceasing reverence for the principles of the Great Deformation." On the east side is a brief statement of what Patrick Hamilton, Jerome Russel, Alexander Kennedy and George Wishart suffered and died for the cause of Christ. On the south side is a tribute of respect to the memory of Sir James Sandilands of Calder, Alexander, Earl of Glencairn, Archibald, Earle of Argyle, Lord James Stewart, "The Good liegent," John Erskine of Dun, John liow, I Christopher Goodman and John Millock. On this side it is also stated that John ! Windram, John Spottiswood, John Doug-1 las, John Row and John Knox compiled ' "The First Confession of Faith" and the "First Book of Discipline." On the west side is a statement of the results of the i reformation. The whole concluding with the words uttered by the Regent when the 1 body of Knox was laid in the grave ; There ! lieth he who never feared the face of man ;! who was often threatened with dag and j dagger, yet hath ended his days in peace | and honor." The monument is kept in perfect condition. It looks new and fresh as if the erec- i tion of onlv a few days ago. It is in every respect worthy of the great and good men j who erected it and of him whose worthy j deeds it is designed to commemorate. The I Scotch will always be a great people so long as they build monuments to the memory of: John Knox. Whenever the Scotch forget John Knox their liberties, their social stand-! ing among the nations of the earth, their i economy, their thrift, their mechanical skill, their all, will depart and Scotland will be no more. Bfejjr And what, after all, is life but a little journey in a strange land, with a few companions, less friends, a Hying train, a halt at the little stations, a rest and a recollection of what we have seen, known and enjoyed most as we traveled, even though they may be unpossessed of like impressions and surroundings. DEATH OF GEN. ULYSSES S. GRANT. Gen. Grant died at Mt. McGregor, N. Y., last Thursday morning, at 8 minutes past S o'clock. Since his removal to that place his condition had been variable until Tuesday, when symptoms of a sinking condition became manifest, the indications growing more alarming on Wednesday and Wednesday night, and with the advent of Thursday morning the marked change in his condition was significant. The death chill at the extremities was increasing and the use of hot applications to keep warmth in the extremities and vital parts was resorted to. They were of some avail, but the artificial warmth was without power to reach the ; cause or stay the results of dissolution. I Hypodermics of brandy were frequently given to stimulate the flagging physical forces but they were so far spent as to furnish no footing for a rebound. Indeed the efforts of the medical men were being made because none could stand by inactive and without trial of expedients that might prolong life an hour or a minute. The morning had passed o minutes beyond eight o'clock and there was not one of the strained and waiting watchers but #ho could mark the nearness of the life-tide to its final ebbing. It was five minutes after eight o'clock, and the eyes of the General were closing. His breathing grew more hushed as the feeble functions of the heart and lungs hastened the closing of the ex-President's life. The peaceful expression seemed to be deepening in the firm and strong lined face and it was reflected as the closing comfort in the sad hearts that bent quietly under the stress of loving suspense. A minute soon passed and was closing as the General drew a deep breath. There was an exhalation like that of one relieved of a long and anxious tension. The members of the group were impelled, each to step nearer the bed, and awaited another respiration. But it never came. There was a stillness in the room and a hush of expectant suspense, and no sound broke the silence save the singing of the birds in the pines outside the cottage and the measured throbbing of the engine that all night had waited by the little mountain depot down the slope. "It is all over," quietly spoke Dr. Douglass and there came then heavily to each witness the realization that General Grant was dead. The doctors withdrew, the nurse * 111 - ?1 11-1? ? ? d +u a r\r\t\r1 Ciosea tne eyenus unu uumpuseu uic ucou General's head, after which each of the family group pressed to the bedside, one after the other and touched their lips upon the quiet face so lately stilled. Holding the position of Commander in Chief of all the armies of the United States, and having the immediate command of the Army of the Potomac at the close of the late war, naturally Gen. Grant has been regarded by a majority of the people of the North as the hero of that struggle. Numbers of his enthusiastic countrymen, forgetting his splendid opportunities, with unlimited resources in men and material, supj plied from all parts of the civilized globe, and ignori ng the fact that i t was a deci mated and famished command, overwhelmed by I numbers, that finally yielded after the most heroic struggle recorded in history, I seem even after the lapse of nineteen years of peace, to regard him as the greatest warrior known to history. On this point opinions differ widely. There are men who fought in the Union army, who, unmoved by prejudice, have ever regarded Gen. Grant as only a creature of circumstances, and reckoning him at his true worth, have failed to join in the adulation so freely bestowed upon one who previous to the war and since its close failed to impress the dispassionate citizen that he was anything more than an ordinary man. This, however, is not the place or time to discuss his ability as a soldier and a statesman, in which latter position his utter failure is but too fresh in the minds of the people. In due time impartial history will relegate him to his true position as an actor in the great drama of the war between the States. He was born at Point Pleasant, Clermont oonntv. Ohio. on the 27th of April, 1822, and christened Iliram Ulysses, bit on entering West Point, at the age of seventeen, the Congressman who procured his appointment, by mistake wrote him down as Ulysses 8. Grant, and by this name he has ever since been known. He graduated in 184:5, twenty-first in a class of 4.3, his commission of brevet second-lieutenant and his diploma both styling him Ulysses S. Grant. He was assigned to the Fourth Regiment and remained in the army eleven years, serving through the war with Mexico. It is claimed that he was in every battle of that war except the battle of Buena Vista. He received two brevets for gallantry, and was later stationed at several posts on the Canada frontier, and finally in California nnrl Orpfrnn. In 1,348 he married Julia F. Dent, daughter of a merchant of St. Louis* In 1804, being then a captain, he resigned his commission in the army and removed to Gravois, near St. Louis, where he operated a farm. While residing there. Grant made an effort to obtain the position of county surveyor and wasdeeply disappointed at not succeeding, lie removed his family to St. Louis after an experience as an agriculturist which could scarcely be called brilliant, After failing in different occupations, in 18G0 he went into the leather trade with his father and brother at Galena, Illinois. lie owned four slaves in Mis?rwi on wimftuinff tn sl non-slave u"l ">"* B " holding State he presented them toa friend. It has always been claimed that if not a pro-slavery man, Grant at least was not an Abolitionist. And he has said that he entered the war only with the desire to preserve the Union, and not from any prejudice against slavery. At the breaking out of the war he was an obscure citizen, wholly unknown, without influence, and apparently without ambition. lie was unacquainted with men of position and power, and had no personal knowledge of great affairs. Even in his own field, the military, his knowledge was limited. He had never commanded morel than a company of soldiers, lie had served under Scott and Taylor, but only as a subaltern, and had not been brought into intercourse with them, lie had cast but one vote for President, and knew no politicians. Army officers and western traders comprised his whole acquaintance. Even the Congressman of his own district, who had been nine successive years in Congress, was unknown to him, though he afterwards became one of Grant's warmest friends. At this time Grant \vas .1!) years old, the father of four children, the eldest of whom I was 11. He lived in a little house oil one I of Galena's many hills, and devoted his time to leather. Thus did the war and his destiny find him. Few of his countrymen even knew of his existence. For him the future held fame and honor in unstinted measure wrapped in its impenetrable folds. But none saw the light of his star before it rose; none read the riddle of his romantic destiny, soon to reveal itself in events that were to shake the world, lie himself saw not the signs that augured his future. He carved out his career blindly. Grant remained at Springfield and helped to organize the volunteer troops of the State. After five weeks of this work, which his military education had specially fitted him for, Gov. Yates offered him the Twenty-first regiment of Illinois infantry. Before receiving his commission as colonel he went to Cincinnati to see Maj.-Gen. McClelian, then in command of Ohio volunteers. He had known McClellan in the old army, and hoped he might ofTer him a place on his staff. Twice he went to headquarters j without finding McClellan, and then re- j turnpfl to Illinois without havinar mention ed his errand to any one. He took command of his regiment early in June and marched to Missouri. Reporting to Brig.Gen. Pope, he was stationed at Mexico, about 50 miles north of the Missouri river. The President commissioned him brigadier general of volunteers in August, a promotion he first heard of through the newspapers. At this time Maj.-Gen. Fremont | was in command of the States and Territo- j ries known as the Western Department. He transferred Grant to Ironton, then to | Jefferson City and to the command of the j district of Southeast Missouri, with head-1 quarters at Cairo. Grant's first military achievement was the seizure of Paducah, Ky., which commanded the navigation of both the Tennessee and the Ohio. In this movement which was accomplished in the night of September 5th, 1801, he saved the control of the Ohio river, and caused the Kentucky Legislature to abandon the position of neutrality and pass resolutions favorable to the Lnion. For two months afterwards he held the country at the junction of the Ohio and Mississippi and disciplined his forces, which by November numbered nearly 20,000 men. Being subordinate to Fremont he was allowed to make no movement of importance. The next engagements in which he was conspicuous were successively Belmont and Fort Donelsou. Belmont was fought on the 7fh nf Xnvpmhpr iSfil.und in Jauuarv. 1862. he moved on Fort Donelson. On the morning of the loth the siege was begun and on the next day the Confederates, under Gen. Buckner, surrendered. While this is regarded as the first great event of Grant's military life, it is also admitted to be the first substantial victory won by Federal arms. At this time Grant was a district commander under General Halleck, whose headquarters were at St. Louis. From some cause Grant fell under the displeasure of Halleck, and after the capitulation of Fort Donelson, Halleck wrote to the war department at Washington ascribing the success of that movement to Grant's subaltern, Gen. C. F. Smith, and recommending Smith for promotion to the rank of Major-General. Halleck also removed Grant from his command, placing in his stead Gen. Smith. Halleck's recommendations were disregarded at Washington, however; Grant was recognized as the hero of Donelson and after remaining from his command for two months, again on the 13th of March assumed command with the rank of Major General. A few days later he removed his headquarters to Savannah, his army consisting of five divisions. The celebrated battle of Shiloh was the next in which he engaged, as commander of the Union forces. This battle was fought on the 6th and 7th of April, 1862, and with its results Grant became convinced that the war would be prolonged and he developed his views as to the conduct of it. He thought armies and not strongholds should be subdued or destroyed, and urged upon the administration the policy of a vigorous campaign. In this, as in all of Grant's recommendations, the authorities at Washington coincided, and with abundance of material, war transports and men, he commenced his march on Vicksburg. The storming of this stronghold was begun on the 19th of May, 1863, and continued until July 3rd, when after a heroic resistance rarely equaled in defensive operations, the garrison capitulated to overwhelming numbers. On the 4th of July the garrison of Vicksburg marched out of the lines they had so long and bravely defended and stacked their arms :n front of thoir nnnmiprnrs. nnrl the surrender nut into Grant's hands the largest capture of men and materials made in the war. In October following, Grant received an order for a new command, the military division of the Mississippi, including all the territory between the Alleghanies and the Mississippi river, excepting what was occupied by Banks in Louisiana. The three departments of the Tennessee, the Cumberland and the Ohio, were all Grant's. After the memorable campaign of Chicamauga came the battles of Chattanooga, Missionary ltidge and Lookout Mountain. On the 23rd of November, 1863, the Confederate pickets on Missionary Kidge looked down on the plain and saw a moving army, with its bayonets glancing in the sun. This was Gen. Thomas' battalions. So exact were their movements that the pickets mistook it for a parade, till the skirmishers sent a rain of bullets on the Confederate lines, and the heavy guns began to wake the echoes. The cannon on missionary Ridge and the artillery of Fort Wood shook the earth until nightfall, and then the two armies slept among the hills. The next day the battle of Lookout Mountain was fought in clouds of smoke and fog, with a rattle of musketry and flashing of tire never to be forgotten, while Sherman planted the flag on one end of Missionary Ridge. On the morning of the 2oth Grant's main line occupied Orchard Knoll, which he had gained the day before; llooker was marching down Lookout; Bragg, the Confederate leader, was on Missionary Ridge, and all were looking down into the valley where the contest was to be decided. Sherman renewed his attack on Missionary Ridge, and under Grant's orders other forces moved I after him, and the men steadily moved up the hillside under the Confederates' fire mini Hiqv o-ninnri nnsspssiori. The Federals I l" ,1,vir ? r-? regarded Chattanooga as the grandest battle fought west of the Alleghanies. It covered thirteen miles, and was fought by GO,000 men under Grant, while the Confederate forces all told numbered but 40,000. On the 26th of February, 18G4, a bill passed both houses of the United States Congress reviving the grade of Lieutenant-General in the armies of the United States, with the idea of conferring this rank upon Grant, thus giving him command of all the military forces of the country, and on the 2nd of March the Senate confirmed the appointment. lie was ordered to Washington, and received his commission directly from the hands of President Lincoln, who had never before seen him. lie then assumed command of the Army of the Potomac and with 700,000 men he planned two campaigns, to be directed simultaneously against vital points of the Confederacy; one under Meade, to operate against Richmond, defended by Lee; the other, under Sherman, against Atlanta, defended by Johnston. At midnight on May 0, 18G4, Grant began the movement against Richmond, pushing through the Wilderness with 140,000 men in an endeavor to place himself between the Confederate army and Richmond. The bloody battles of the Wilderness which foiled Graut's attempt, and the terrific losses, which from May 3 to June 15 amounted to the appalling total of 54,551 men killed and wounded on the Union side alone, simnly seemed to confirm Grant in his determination to isolate Lee. The siege of Petersburg, which Grant began when the Hanking movements of the summer proved useless, ended after the victory at Five Forks, in April, 1865. Richmond was evacuated, Lee retreated toward Danville, closely followed by Grant and the surrender at Apparaattox finally took place on the 9th of April, nineteen years ago. On the 2oth of July, 18GG, Grant was commissioned General of the United States Army, the rank having been created for him. For some time he acted as secretary of war, displacing Secretary Stanton. At the Republican National Convention held in Chicago, May 21,18G8, Gen. Grant was unanimously nominated for President on the first ballot, with Schuyler Colfax for Vice-President. Thev received 214 electo ral votes, against 80 for Seymour and Blair. In 1872 he was nominated by acclamation for re-election with Henry Wilson for Vice-President, the ticket receiving 268 votes in the Electoral College against 80 for Greeley and Brown. Neither of Grant's Presidential terms was marked by the wisdom of the patriot or the sagacity of a statesman. He was unfortunate in the choice of his cabinet officers, choosing either typical politicians or totally incompetent men for the most responsible positions; and while in war he was the recognized and idolized leader of his legions, in the Presidential chair he was completely mastered by the scheming politicians, in the hands of whom he was but plastic clay to be moulded as their selfish interests might dictate. As chief executive he was virtually "without a policy," adopting the phrase of the times, and the abuses of the administration were innumerable, from petty peculations of government employees and retainers about the Presidential mansion to those high in authority. Every man and every public position had their price. So flagrant were the abusR in the public service, and it having become a byword that to secure an appointment it was only necessary to make a present to President Grant, Senator Edmunds gave expression to his disgust on the floor of the Senate by saying that President Grant, in the disposition of his patronage, reminded him of a cheap John store displaying the sign, "Anything in this window for one dollar." In 1871 President Grant urged the annexation of San Domingo as a Territory of the United States. The means which he took to carry out this project were sharply criticised, and that the motive on the part of some of Grant's trusted adherents for the annexation was the enriching a. ring was . more than suspected. The scandal in which Gen. Babcock, the President's aidede-camp, figured so conspicuously marked the beginning of the decline of the Republican party. During Grant's second term the scandals concerningthe bonded warehouses, the sales of public lands, the army tradership contracts, the naval contracts and the whisky frauds, subjected the Administration to determined and effective criticism. The public, with a generosity born of true gratitude. refused to connect the personal character of the President with the notorious profligacy in office which could not be concealed ; yet, in 1872, the unwilling conviction that a reform could not be effected witmn tne nnes 01 me party organization had spread so far as to lead to an earnest effort to form a new and independent party. But the hold which Grant retained as a successful military leader assured his election, and during his second term, he still refused to believe ill of his personal friends. When prosecutions were begun and Babcock was indicted, the President's words, "Let no guilty man escape," were again hailed with delight by all who wished well for the country. Yet Babcock was not convicted. The managers of the whisky ring claimed that they levied their assessments upon distillers and cheated the treasury to raise a fund to insure a third term to the President, and that the end justified the means. After Grant's second term he made a tour of the world, and while traveling in foreign lands and from crowned heads and dignitaries of Qther governments he was receiving the homage due to one who had been the chief executive of the United States government, the occasion was seized by the corrupt Doliticiansto foist him upon the country for a third Presidential terra. The scheme failed. Public opinion was too strong for j the politicians. America wanted no third term, no Ciesar. Garfield was nominated and the country breathed easier. Since then Gen. Grant has been out of politics. Three years ago, in an effort to aid his sons to establish a permanent business, Gen. Grant allowed himself to be drawn into the scheme by which Ferdinand Ward wrecked so many fortunes and reputations. Gen. Grant was made a bait to attract victims, and the story of the crash, under the weight of which Gen. Grant went to the grave, is too fresh in the minds of the public to require repetition. His association with Ward seems to have been the unfortunate occurrence of his life, for after the failure of the firm, which attracted such wide attention and so much comment and criticism, from which Gen. Grant did not escape, he seemed to be a changed and broken man. He was then, though the public was not advised of the fact, a victim of the disease which was slowly but surely eating his life away. He went out but little from his house? became depressed and felt that his fair name was disgraced. He grew worse until April 1st, last, when it was thought the crisis had been reached and the end was near. His death was even reported, but was shortly afterwards contradicted, and for several days the physicians, three who attended him, sent out hourly bulletins of his condition. But he rallied and seemed to gain strength, to continue the writing of his history and to take daily rides. His physicians fearing the effect of the summer heat in the city of New York, advised his removal to some more desirable place, and the tender of the cottage of Mr. Drexel, of Philadelphia, at Mt. McGregor, N. Y., on the foothills of the Adirondacks, was accepted, and to that place he was conveyed on the 16th of June. The journey, though but of several hours by rail, was fatiguing on his condition, but after a day's rest he rallied and seemed for some time to have been benefitted by the change, until Tuesday night, the 21st instant, when, succumbing to the disease and the extreme heat, his strength failed, and he quietly, in the midst of his attendants and family, waited the end, which came on Thursday morning at eight minutes past eight o'clock. How thk Earth is Built Up Hourly by Mktkors.?Dr. Kleiber, of St.Petersburg, publishes in the Astronomische Nachricten the results of investigations by himself and Dr. Keller on the amount by which the earth's mass is increased each hour by the meteors falling upon the globe from space. The original memoirs, which are printed in Russian, have not reached this country, but the summary referred to is ex tremely interesting. Observations by Prof. Scmidt, of Athens, and others, have shown that on an average a single observer will see about ten meteors an hour. This is a number which depends upon experiment simply. A single observer does not command the whole sky above his horizon, but only twenty three per cent, of it. Professor IS'ewton, of Yale college, has shown that about 10,460 times as many meteors fall on the whole earth in an hour as fall so as to be visible above any one horizon. Combining these separate deductions, it follows that 10x100, 460x26 (or about 450,000) fall on the surface of the whole earth each hour. It is to be remembered, too, that only such meteors as would be visible to the naked eye are included in the enumeration. Every astronomer knows that there are vast quantities of extremely minute telescopic meteors in the heavens. One can hardly work for two or three hours without seeing at least one meteor in every small field of the telescope. The number given above, then is clearly a minimum. Professor Alexander Herschel has shown that the average weight of a meteor may be taken at five grams, whence it follows that the earth receives hourly not less than 2,25X4 kilograms, or 4,950 pounds of foreign material deposited upon it from the celestial space.