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From Bentley's Miscellany.
A TALE OF GRAMMARYE.
The Baron came home in his fury and rape
He blew up his henchman, he blew up his page;
The seneschal trembled, the cook looked pale.
As he ordered for supper grill’d kidneys and
ale, —
Vain thought! that grill’d kidneys can give one
relief,
When one’s own arc inflamed by anger and
grief.
What was the cause of the Baron’s distress ?
Why sunk hw spirits so low ?
Fair Isabel, when she should have said l \ cs,’
Had given the Baron a ‘.Yo!’
He ate, and he drank, and he grumbled be
tween :
First on the viands he vented his spleen —
The ale was sour, the kidneys were tough,
And tasted of nothing but pepper and snutf?
The longer he ate, the worse grew affairs,
Till he ended by kicking the butler down stairs.
All was hushed —’twas the dead of the night;
The tapers were dying away,
And the armor bright
Glanced in the light
Os the pale moon’s trembling ray ;
Yet his lordship sat still, digesting his ire,
With his nose on his knees, and his knees in
the tire:
All at once he jump’d up, resolved to consult
his
Cornrlius Agrijipa dc Rebus Occult is.
He seized by the handle
A bed-room flat candle,
And went to a secret nook,
Where a chest lay hid,
With so massive a lid,
Ilis knees, as he raised it, shook—
Partly, perhaps, from the wine he had drunk,
Partly from fury, and partly from funk ;
For nevor before he had ventured to look
In his great-great-grandfather’s conjuring book
Now Lord Ranulph Fitzhugh,
As lords frequently do,
Thought reading a bore; but his case was
quite new;
So he quickly ran through
A chapter or two,
For without Satan’s aid ho knew not what to do;
When, poking the fire, as the evening grew
colder,
He saw with alarm,
As he raised up his arm,
An odd-looking countenance over his shoulder.
Firmest rock will sometimes quake,
Trns iest blade will sometimes break,
Sturdiest arm will sometimes fail,
Proudest eye will sometimes quail;
Nor wonder Fitzhugh felt uncommonly queer,
Upon suddenly seeing the Devil so near,
Leaning over his chair, peeping into his car . 1
The stranger first
The silence burst,
And replied to the Baron’s look—
“I would not intrude,
But don’t think me rude
If I suiffat that musty old book.
Charm* were all very well
Ere Reform came to Ifell;
But now not an imp care a fig for a spell,
Still I see what you want,
And am willing to grant
The person and purse of the fair Isabel,
Upon certain conditions the maiden is won— j
You may have her at once if you choose to sav
‘Done!’
“The lady so rare,
Her manors so fair,
Lord Baron I give to thee ;
But when once the sun
Five years has run,
Lord Baron, thy Soul’s my fee !
Oh, where wert thou, ethereal sprite—
Protecting angel, where ?
Sure never before had noble or knight
Such need of thy guardian care !
No aid is nigh—’twas so decreed—
The recent Huron at once agrees,
And prepared with las blood to sign the deed.
With the point of his sword
II is arm he scored.
And mended his pen with his Miserieorde;
From his black silk breeches
The stranger reaches
A lawyer’s leathern case,
Selects a paper,
And snuffing the taper,
The Baron these words mote trace:
“Five years after date, I promise to pay
My soul to Old Nick, without let or delay,
For value received.”—“There, my lord, on mv
life,
Tut your name to the bill, and, the lady’s your
wife.”
•*-* # * • *
All look’d bright in earth ami heaven ;
And far through the morning skies
Had Sol his fiery course driven—
That is, it was striking half-past elevon
As Isabel opened her eyes.
All wondered what made the lady so late,
For she came not down till noon,
Though she usually rose at a quarter to eight,
And went to bed equally soon.
But her rest had been broken by troublesome
dreams;
She had thought that, in spite of her cries and
her screams,
Old Nick had borne off, in a chariot of flame,
The gallant young Howard of F.tfinghame.
Her eye was so dim, aud her checks so chill,
The family doctor decfjrsd that she. was ill,
And muttered dark hints of a draught and a
pill.
All during breakfast, brood doth she seem,
O’er some secret woes or wrongs;
For she empties the salt-cellar into the cream,
And stirs up her tea with the tongs.
But scarce hath she finished her third round
toast:
When a knock is heard by all;
‘What may that be?’—’tis too late for the post—
Too soon for a morning call.’
After a moment of silence and dread,
The court-yard rang
With the joyful clang
. Os an armed warrior’s tread.
Now away and away with fears and alarms’.
The lady lies clasped in young Effinghame’s
a ms
She hangs on his neck, and she tells him tfue,
■How that troublesome creature, Lord Ranulph
Hath vowed and hath sworn with a terrible
That unless she will take him for better for
worse.
He will work her mickle rue!
“Now, lady-love, dismiss thy fear—
Should that grim old Baron presume to come
here,
1 We’ll soon send him home with a flea in his
ear:
And, to cut short the strife,
My love! my life!
Let me send for a parson and make you my
wife.”
No banns did they need—no license require—
They were married tiiat day before dark; 1
The clergyman came—a fat little friar—
The iloctor acted as clerk.
But the nuptial rites were hardly o’er—
Scarce had they reached the vestry door,
When a knight rushed headlong in ;
Froin’his shoes to his shirt,
He was all over dirt—
From his toes to the tip of his chin;
But high on his travel-stained helmet tower’d
The lion crest of the noble Howard
By horrible doubts and fears possess'd,
The bride turn’d and gaz’d on the bridegroom’s
breast—
No Argent Bend was there !
No Lion bright
Os her ow n true knight,
But, his rival’s Sable Bear !
The Lady Isabel instantly knew
’Twas a regular hoax of the false Fitzhugh ;
And loudly the Baron exultingly cried,
“Thou art woo’d, thou art won, my bonny gay
bride!
Nor heaven nor hell can our loves divide!”
This pithy remark was scarcely made,
When the Baron beheld, upon turning his head,
His friend in black close by;
He advanced with a smile all placid and
bland,
Popp'd a small pieco of parchment into his
hand,
And knowingly winked his eye.
As the Baron pursued,
His cheek was suffused
With a flush between luick dust ami brown ;
While the fair Isabel
Fainted and fell
1 In a still and death-like swoon.
I Lord Howard roar’d out, till the chapel and
vaidts
Rang with cries for burnt feathers and vola
tile salts.
‘•Lonk at the date!” said the queer-looking nnn,
In his own peculiar tone;
“My word hath been kept—deny it who can—
And now 1 am come for mine own.”
Might he trust his eyes! Alas, and alack!
Twas a bill ante-dated full five years back!
’Twas all too true—-
It was over due—
The term had expired! he wouldn’t ‘renew’—
And the Devil look’d black as the Baron look’d
blue.
The Lord Fitzhugh
Made a great ado,
And especially blew up Old Nick:
’Twas a stain, lie swore,
< )n the name lie bore.
To play such u rascally trick.
“A trick!” quoth Nick, in atone rather quick—
"lt’s one often play'd upon people who‘tick.’”
Blue flames now broke
From his mouth as lie spoke;
They went out, and left an uncommon thick
smoke,
Which, enveloping quite
Himself and the knight,
The pair in a moment were clean out of sight,
When it walled away,
Where the dickens were they?
Oli, no one might guess—oh, no one might say;
But never, 1 wis,
From that time to this,
In hall or in bower, on mountain or plain,
Has the' Baron been seen or been heard of a
gain.
As for fair Isabel, after two or three sighs,
She finally open'd her beautiful eyes;
She cough'd and she sneez’d
And was very well pleas'd,
Alter being so rumpled, and towzled, and
teased,
To find, when restored from h«r panic and
pain,
My Lord Howard had married her over again.
MORAL.
Be warned by our story, ye nobles and knights,
Who’rc so much in the habit of flying of kites;
And beware how you meddle again with such
flights.
At least, if your energies creditors cramp.
Remember a usurer’s always a scamp.
And look well at the bill, and the date, and the
stamp:
Don’t sign in n burry, whatever you do,
Or you’ll go to the Devil like Baron Fitzhugh.
TINGS
Written in an old hand in a cn/n / of I.orelart's
l.ucastu, 107!*.
A ST BED! A STEED!
A steed! a steed! of matehleise sprrde!
A sword of metal ketsno!
A1 else to noble heartes is drosse—
At else on earth is meaiie.
The lieighynge es the war-horse prowde,
The rowieinge of the drum.
The clangour of the trumpet lowde—
Be soundes from heaven that come.
And. oh! the Oiumferiiigc prow of knightes
When as their war-cryes swelle,
May tole from heaven an angel bright,
And rowse a fiend from hell.
I hen mounte 1 tin-n moimte, brave gallants all.
And don your helmes amaine;
| Deathe's couriers. Fame and Honor, call
Us to the field againe.
No shrewish tears shall fill our eve
When the sword-hilt's hi our hand.
Heart whole we’ll »artc, and no whit sc-lie
For the fay rest of the land.
Let piping swaine, and craven wight,
Thus weepe and pullingcrye;
. Our business is like men to fighte,
And, like to Heroes, die!
The gross receipt of a Mechanic's ball, late
ly held at Cincinnati, amounted to $3,937.
The nett profits ($2,812) were applied to be
nevolent purjtoses.
BRUNSWICK ADVOCATE.
From Bentley * Miscellany, edited by ‘Box.’ I
“Let me tell you the particulars. Y’ou re
member the steamboat taking fire?”
“Most clearly,” replied Jack: “I can never
forget that unhappy circumstance.”
“The very luckiest event of my life’” ex- j
claimed Dick.
“Surely I have heard you complain a thou
sand times ”
“Exactly!” interrupted Briggs. “But the}
strangest things lutve come about: I won a !
bumper rubber last night of old Dinglederry j
and his wife, before we supped off the fish that 1
I had caught in the morning, with a brace of
' birds that I shot three days since, being one
! out of eight I bagged in about three hours.—
Now for the steamer. You must know, Jack,!
| that among the hissing flames, and on board
that very boat, I made the acquaintance of a \
J most worthy old gentleman, and the loveliest I
I creature, his daughter. I had the good for-1
1 tune to afford them assistance in the confusion
| and fright that prevailed; when by some mis
| hap we were precipitated into the river. I
! boldly struck out with desperate strength to
! wards the shore, the w orthy old gentleman
! maintaining a firm hold of me on one side,
| while I endeavored to keep his daughter se
cure on the other: and, thus burthened, I
found myself no longer a single man without
encumbrances, but with all the cares of a
heavy family clinging to me for support. In this
trim we were all rescued; they suffered from
the fright only, while, in addition, I was nearly
j pulled to pieces, tolerably parboiled by the
| steam, and a perfect mummy of mud; the re
collection is a never failing source of pure un-
I mixed delight;” and Dick chuckled over the
! reminiscence, to his friend’s great joy and as
i tonishment.
J “Then,” said Somers, “if I mistake not, you
| fell into the river, and afterwards in love?”
I “Something of the sort, I believe,,’ replied
| Dick. “The follow ing day we proceeded to
wards London, and I ivas terribly low-spirited
j at the idea of the coining separation, when,
| just at the thirteenth milestone, the coach up
| set.”
| “That was unfortunate,” remarked Jack.
“Not at all!” I never enjoyed any tiling so
[ much in my life! Don’t you see, my dear Jack,
I we were thrown together again.”
“Quite by ucciilent, added Jack.
“Just so! the most delightful adventure, as
it has since proved. I was bruised from head
to foot, but they received no injury: again had
I become their protector, for in my descent 1
\ managed to spraw l upon some gravel, and they
j found me a tolerably efficient screen to guard
! them from the (lints. Neither of them had a
j scratch, though the blood poured pretty freely
. from different wounds about my person, and
they acknowledged bow they must have suft’er
ted had 1 not interposed so effectually. Quite
j romantic, was it not? You cannot imagine
! how they laughed when the danger was all
over.”
“Amiable creatures!” ejaculated Somers,
and so easily pleased too! I suppose you set
aside all ceremony, and became most intimate
; acquaintances?”
“Not exactly!” said Dick; “we lmd hardly
time to cultivate a reciprocal interchange of
I sentiment, for they had urgent business in-un
otlier part of the country, so they took a post
chaise, and I took physic,—they went to Lon
don, and 1 to bed.”
“Rather ungrateful conduct,” remarked
Somers, “considering the use they had made
of you. Even l should have grumbled at such
treatment.”
“I was terribly buttered, I must own,” said
Dick.”
' “And completely rut into the bargain !”
“The waiter at the inn, where I was confin
ed for a week, assured me that the old gentle
man pi iced his card in my hand before he start
j ed; but, between mv pain and confusion, it was
j lost.”
| “Well ! prithee proceed, without another
i breakdown:”
“In a few days l discharged the doctor, and
j on reaching home, found my cottage a heap of
cinders.”
“My dear Dick!” said Somers, “why recal
that shocking catastrophe?”
“Catastrophe! fiddle-fuddle!” cried Briggs;
“the most unparalleled piece of good luck!
Having no dwelling, l took lodgings at Priory
Farm.” Here Dick smiled till it almost a
inounted to an incipient giggle. “You know
j that Topps and Lopps’s bank suspended
; p ayment?”
“And you experienced a loss of three hun
-1 dred pounds,” said Somers.
| “No .such tiling, mv dear Jack! that stop
page was only a continuation of luck. I may
j truly congratulate myself on that event.
Their breaking was my making: in common
parlance, their loss was my gain.”
“Astonishing!” exclaimed Somers.
“Mr. Ruthertord had a considerable balance
tin the hands of Topps and Lopps,” said Dick
! very knowingly: “so lie came down to look af
! ter matters, and us Fate would have if, took
j apartments for himself and daughter at Priory
; Farm. Now you see—eh ?”
j “Can't say I do,” replied Somers.
■ “Dear Jack, how dull you are!”
. “Nnv, 'tis you have become so lively!”
“Well, we were under the same roof.
“5 oting Love lived once in a humble shed,”
j and all that sort of thing: it was natural to re
; new our acquiutancc, when the scars on my
! face reminded them of my sufferings, and their
! debt of gratitude.’
“What!” said Somers, “you don’t mean—•”
“Yes, but I do though ! In Mr. Rutherford
J and his daughter I discovered my companions
| who had shared mv perils in “flood and field:”
; —not exactly shared, —hut you know what I
I mean. In a word, I am the happiest fellow
j alive, and the luckiest dog in the universe.”
“Let me hear that word again,” said Jack:
j “did you say lucky?” ‘
“Not lucky,—the luckiest mortal breathing.”
“That is—you are beyond all comparison
superlatively happy.”
“The stoppage of the mail was of no con
sequence, for my uncle left me minus merely
to bestow his property on ray future wife, the
only child of his old friend Rutherford.”
“Then vour intended wife is the same ‘art
. t’ul specious hussy who gained his affections—
is it so?”
“The same,” said Dick. “Henceforth I re
nounce grumbling, and believe that “all is for
the best.” Had I not been on board the
steamboat, nearly drowned, and afterwards
1 stoned to death, my suit might have been
pressed in vain, for gratitude is an extensive
: feeling, and opens the heart, Jack. But for
the burning of my cottage, I should have
wanted the opportunities that Priory Farm af
i forded; and Topps and Lopps’s business
! crowned nil, by bringing the Rutherfords hith
er.”
“And you have become a convert?”
“Most decidedly,” said Dick: “your words J
have been realized; matters have mended— j
time has brought things around. Even my
garden flourishes, for I can exhibit a pot of;
sweet peas of rny own setting; and, among my j
other cures, I also cure rny own bacon, —pigs (
thrive wonderfully.”
“Bravo!” exclaimed Somers; “I congratulate I
you on the moral victory achieved, and the irn-!
portant lesson that you have learned. Yet
there is one thing ”
“What can that possibly be?” said Dick
impatiently.
“Why, a “circulating medium” for those j
“ indefinite articles” which were to have ilium- j
ed and astonished mankind through the page*
of the County Magazine.”
“A fig for the County Magazine!” said
Dick; “it was only supported, like other ref-
I uges for the poor and destitute, by “voluntary
| contributions.” lam enrolled among the elect
in Bentley’s Miscellany.” IF
“Famous! Then your misfortunes are really
j at an end?” said Jack Somers.
“I trust, forever,” replied Richard Briggs;
“and I have arrived at the conclusion,
“Whatever is —is right!” ”
[From the Sandwich Island Gazette.]
THE VOLCANO AT IIAWAHII.
Honolulu, Nov. 30, 1837.
On Saturday, the 4th of November, I
started from Byron’s Bay in company
with two gentlemen belonging to the bark
Admiral Cockburn. We encamped for
the night in a rude hut, constructed on
the brink of this immense precipice, and,
although fatigued, we could not sleep, so
much did we enjoy the night view of the
burning matter below. Our most san
guine expectations were fully realized in
the wonders of the scene; we could see
three burning lakes in beautiful action,
as well as innumerable fires issuing from
cracks in the lava, and a display of the
liquid matter discharged from four small
craters. The report from the craters was
equal to the sound of cannon, and the
burning matter ejected from them had the
appearance of rockets when exploding in
j the air. .
! On Monday the sixth of November, our
, party descended the crater, and, in about
i three quarters of an hour reached the
j bottom; we walked towards the burning'
j lakes, —but we had not proceeded far
I when we found some difficulty in breatli
; mg, in consequence of the air beneath us;
! at every few paces we could see fire at a
[distance of not more than two feet from
■j the surface; at times it was so hot that we
[ were obliged to make rapid strides to
i save our feet from burning.
We roamed at large, over a field of la
[ va, of at least four miles in extent; our
| guide refused to accompany us, stating
j that he had never been in that direction
before. We visited the sulphur banks
and collected some tine specimens of
[Hire sulphur.
\V e now ascended; at about two o’clock
jin the afternoon we regained our hut; as
the weather was fine we were enabled to
; take a good survey of this astonishing
j volcano; previously to our starting it sud
| denly ceased action, and continued quiet
'until we left it. 1 remarked, immediate
! ly, to my companions, upon the singulari
|ty of this appearance, ascribing it at
j once to the etlecls of an earthquake or a,
j grand eruption.
When we arrived at about eight miles j
; from Byron’s Bay, we heard a confused j
account from some of the natives, that
j something of the kind had taken place.;
We hastened on, and, upon reaching tire [
! bay,'were astonished at the desolate ap
pearance of the place; upon inquiry we i
! learned that the sea had broken in and
■swept away the houses, and every tiling
j else of a moveable nature to some dis
tance inland.
C’i kkexcv. Extract from the work of
iM. Chevalier : Credit is the primary cl-!
[ einent of life in the United States; they ;
live on it. \\ ithout credit, those populous
towns which arise on all sides of it as i 1-by
enchantment—those rich States which
i fringe the margin of the Atlantic, which I
I stretch to tSic west of the Alleglianv, and j
extend along the coast of the Ohio and;
Mississippi, would have been still savage
; forests and bottomless morasses. New i
I York alone possesses twenty banks; the,
means of its annual discounts is £’‘25,000,- j
[000; whereas at Paris, the total discounts
| of the Bank were, in 1831, <£{>, 000. 000 ;
jin 1832, only .£‘6,000,000. At Philadel
phia, in 1831, the discounts rose to
<£32,000,000. A general shake to credit j
even tor the shortest time, is here more
terrible than the most frightful earthquake.
The banks have acted as a lever which
has enabled the Americans to establish •
among themselves, to their own great [
profit, the agriculture and industry of
Europe, and which lias covered their own
territory with cities, canals, railroads,
manufactories, and iertile fields: in a word
everything which constitutes civilization.
Without the bank's, the cuitivaDv?-.
have been destitute of capital for his most
necessary advances: lie would have had no
instruments for clearing of his farm; and
il the system has led in maiiv cases to.
absurd and gambling speculations, it is;
the same system which has enabled the
farmer to purchase land for two dollars;
th* acre, which he afterwards sold for ten [
or a hundred. The mechanics who are
now so loud in their condemnation of the
banking system, forget that it is to it that,
they owe the industrious activity which has j
enabled them to earn from five to eight I
shillings a day of wages. They forget that
it is it which has furnished them with the
means, of which so many have availed !
themselves, of rising to opulence and com-'
fort; for in America, every enterprising I
man who can give the guarantee of a tol
erable character, is sure of obtaining cred
it and thus has the means of making his
fortunes.”
[From the National Intelligencer April 11th.]
IMPORTANT MILITARY INTELLI
GENCE.
We-learn that the President of the U
nited States, by and with the advice and
consent of the Senate, has conferred the
Brevet of Brigadier General on the gal
lant Col. Taylor, of the First Regiment
of Infantry, for his meritorious conduct
in the last action with the Florida In
dians.
Since learning the above appointment,
we have been enabled to lay before our
readers the following important General
Order;
Head Quarters oe the Army,
Adjutant General’s Office,
Washington, April 10, 1838.
I. —Major General Jesup having re
ported that the operations in Florida will
have terminated by the Ist of May, and
that a portion of the troops will be dispos
able, the following arrangements will be
carried into effect as soon thereafter as
! practicable.
11. —The Ist and Gth regiments of In
fantry, the six companies of the 2d In
fantry, and four companies of the 2d
Dragoons, will constitute the regular force
ito remain in Florida, with as many com
panies of the volunteers or militia of the
Territory as the officer remaining in com
mand may deem necessary.. The three
1 companies of the Gth Infantry; in Louisi
ana, will forthwith join the Head Quar
[ ters of the regiment at Tampa Bay.
111. —The four regiments of Artillery,
! the 4th regiment of Infantry, six conipa
: nies of the 2d Dragoons, and the detach
j ment of Marines, will repair to the Clier
| okee country by the most convenient and
j expeditious routes from the several points
at which they may be found on the re
ceipt of this order. The troop*, ns far as
| practicable, will move by regiments, and
lie accompanied by all the officers belong
ing to each. Should any of the compa
nies ordered to the Cherokee country oc
' cupy stations in Florida from which they
| should not be immediately withdrawn,
i they will continue in position until they
I can be relieved by the troops designated
jto remain in the Territory; after which
they will follow their regiments without
delay, it being important to concentrate
the companies of each regiment.
IV. —Two Surgeons, and as many
Assistants as the service may require,
will be retained in Florida, to be selected
from those who have served the shortest
period in the Territory. All other offic
ers of the Medical Stall will proceed with
the troops ordered to the Cherokee coun
try.
V.—Major General Jcsup will take all
the necessary measures for the prompt
execution of this order, and will then
turn over the command of the troops in
Florida to Brevet Brigadier General Z.
Taylor, Colonel of the Ist Infantry; and
on being relieved, he will repair to the
seat of Government, and resume the du
; ties of Quartermaster General.
| Vl.—The officers at the heads of the
| several branches of the Staff will make
; the necessary arrangements for moving
| and supplying the troops on their routes
to their destination, and for the services
j in which they are to he employed,
i Vll.—Major General Scott is assigned
jto the immediate command of the troops
■ ordered to the Cherokee country, and the
direction of affairs in that quarter. The
commanders of regiments and detach
! ments will report to his Head Quarters,
at Athens, in Tenessce, or wherever else
they may be established at the time.
* By order of Alexander M acomb,
j Major General Commander-in-C’hief
11. JON ES, Adj. Gen.
TIIE CIIEROKEES.
From the Western Georgian, of the 7th
inst. published in Floyd county, we ex
: tract the interesting paragraphs which
follow.
The intelligence conveyed in them
proves the necessity of the force now be
; ing assembled in the Cherokee circuit.
Until the western part of Georgia is re
lieved of these Indians, its prosperity
must be seriously retarded, and any other
policy than that adopted by the general
i and state governments would only serve,
to hold out delusive hopes never to he re
alized by those Aborigines.
Whatever their state of civilization,
the time has nearly come, when they must
yield to the claims of a superior race, i
lands too long occupied by the destined,
hunters, of the west. Georgia must have
this country, to secure the political influ- j
ence in the Union, to which her fertile |
soil, peopled by a sturdy and enterprising;
-population, entitle her. With our whole :
territory cultivated by our own citizens,!
drawn together, as they ere long must be,!
by the splendid prospects of internal im
provement. which engage the attention of
the present generation, who can estimate
her future social condition, or arrest her
strides to the elevation on which her re
sources, aided by the connexion with her
valuable sisters, must rapidly place her.
[Savannah Georgian.
We hsvo conversed with P Reagan,
Esq., one of the Cherokee Enrolling;
Agents, who has just returned from a sec-:
ond tour among the Indians, for the pur- j
pose of enrolling the names of those !
Cherokees who wish to emigrate. Out
of at least 3000, whom he had visited, he |
succeeded m obtaining only 30 Indians ■
willing to go to Arkansas.
T’hese are facts Worthy of the people’s
attention, especially in the Cherokee Cir
cuit.
It is understood here from the report of
a gentleman of the name of Joiner, that
difficulties have already occurred at the
agency, (Calhoun,) in relation to the re
moval of those Cherokees who had en
rolled for immediate emigration. The
report states that out of a large number
who had reported themselves at the Agen
cy as beneficiaries of the treaty, and
ready to go West, but one hundred and
fifty could be found, when the steamboat
was ready to leave the wharf—the rest
had all absconded. The report goes fur
her and states that Gen. Smith,superintend
ent of Cherokee Removal, had determin
ed to discharge all the enrolling agents
but the one at Calhoun, and require the
building of a fort at the agency, to se
cure those Indians who should be brought
in by the troops and enrolled by this
agent, when the time for their removal
arrives. We know not whether these re
ports are entitled to credit: we shall learn
by next week, and give our readers the
facts.
The following is an extract from the
speech of a member of the Massachusetts
Legislature, who has acquired some repu
tation as a financier. We insert it not
only as expressing the views of an able
man, upon the interesting subject which
is now engaging the attention of the pub
lic, but as recording facts which are not
generally known, or if known are forgot
ton.—[Charleston Mercury.
‘‘Soon after the peace of 1815, the
Banks in New York, Philadelphia and
Baltimore, resolved to resume, and tried
their hand at curtailment. They only pro
duced mischief, and public sentiment com
pelled them to retrace their steps. Cur
tailment produced as usual its natural off
spring, viz : general distrust, and of course
distress and terror; all of which is the
very reverse of the first and indispensable
elements of resumption ofspecie payments,
viz : quiet and ease, and comfort of their
natural offspring, viz : general and gener
ous confidence. These are the natural
results of a gentle, general increase of
loans. The discovery (by American gen
ius) of this undeniable truth, led the way
to the resumption of specie payments. —
It was not done by curtailment; it was
done by the very reverse, viz: by the
agreement of the then new bank of the
United States, with the local banks, to dis
count two iiiilliojtts in New York, two
millions in Philadelphia, and one million
in Baltimore, and to take by the hand all
the local institutions, and sustain them,
shoulder to shoulder. Thus it was that a
force, foreign to the then common course of
trade, was brought to give additional
strength to the local banks, who one and
all declared that without it they w'ould not,
and could not undertake to resume specie
payments.
And this is the true secret, viz : non
curtailment, a gentle increase of loan and
a force in addition to that in exis
tence, to inspire a tone of general confi
dence in each and every one of the public,
and in each and every one of the Banks;
and it was by this, that, for the first time
in the history of the world, success crown
ed the attempt to resume specie payments
by a mass ofbanks.
A Duel. Two persons, belonging to
Galena, Illinois, one of whom was named
Steau, and the other Fries, met in per
sonal combat on the 20th ult. on the ice
at the mouth of Fever river. The Back
woodsman, which relates the affair, says
the thermometer was 20 degrees below
zero, whilst their blood was at boiling
heat. They took their position, (20
paces,) and at the word of command took
steady aim; but at the very moment when
they should have killed each other, tho
heels of one slipped on the ice, and he
fell, without tiring; the other missed fire,
but, in the dreadful anxiety of the moment,
lie was not aware of this, and, supposing
he had killed his antagonist, as he saw him
fall, he took to his heels to escape arrest
for murder, and has not since been heard
of.
1 OOLB FOR GREAT AND GOOD WORKS.
fools ? Thou hast no tools? Why,
I there is not a man, or a thing, now alive,
but has tools. The basest of created anim
alcules, the spider itself, has a spinning
jenny, and warping-mill, and power-loom,
! within its head; the stupidest of oysters has
.a Papin’s digester, with stone-and-lime
; house to hold it in ; every being that can
' live can do something ; this let him do.
—Tools ? Hast thou not a brain, furnish
ed, furnishable with some glimmerings
.of light; and three fingers to hold a pen
w ithal? Never, since Aaron’s rod went out
of practice, or even before it, was there
such a wonder-working tool; great as any
recorded miracles have been performed by
pens. For strangely in this so solid-seem
ing world, which nevertheless is in con
tinual, restless flux, it is appointed that
sound, to appearance the most fleeting,
should be the most continuing of all
things. The Word is well said to be
omnipotent in this world; man, there
by. divine, can create as by a Fiat. —
Awake, arise! Speak forth what is in
thee ; what God has given thee; what the
Devil shall not take away. Higher task
than that of priesthood was allotted to no
man; wert thou but th% meanest in that
sacred hierarchy, is it not honor enough
therein to spend and be spent?