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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?