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quor, lie cursed her, and died while a curse against himself hung upon his lips. The daughter did not leave the spot before mid night, and her cries appalled the stoutest hearts around her. Twenty dollars were raised among the spectators, but when hand ed to her, she exclaimed, “No! no! give me my father!” Poor girl, she called in vain. The Gambler. —Do not associate with the gambler. You will seldom tind a virtuous ora sober man who follows the business of gaming for a living. To keep company with such is to lie a companion ot intemper ance, idleness and theft. The young man who occasionally gambles, may not us yet have become all that is vile and sickening in human nature —hut he is fast approaching the acme of wretchedness and guilt; an.l unless he break away at once from this vice, there is no hope for him. Ilis passion for play wtllmorease —but as the means for grat ifying his inordinate desire become limited by frequent indulgence, lie resorts to dis honest means to procure funds to expend at the gaming table. Never invite the games ter to your house. Show him by your cool ness that you detest his employment—and that unless he will tear himself away from the infatuation that binds him to vice, you for one cannot claim him as a friend or asso ciate. Better be immured within the walls of a penitentiary, than to take for your inti mate companion a man of this character. The heart of many a wife is made sad, by the conduct of her husband, who now spends his days and his nights, with his infutuated companions around the billiard table. Her sufferings, almost intolerable, are kept with in her own bosom. Sleep is driven from her. And when, long after the clock lias told the hour of midnight, her husband re turns, his breath and actions betray that the inebriating glass has been no stranger tohim. O, the agony of that wife! Who—who would be united to a gambler? Young woman, never, O never keep him company. If you do your misery will be inevitable. A Hint to Girls. —We have always con sidered it an unerring sign of innate vulgar ity, when we hear ladies take especial pains to impress us with the idea of their igno rance of all domestic matters, save sewing lace or weaving a net to incase their delicate hands. Ladies, by some curious kind of hocus-pocus have got it into their heads that the best way to catch a husband is to show liow profoundly capable they are of doing nothing for his comfort. Frightening a pi nnointo fits or murderingthe King’s French, may be good bait for certain kinds of fish, but they must be of that kind usually found in very shallow water. The surest way to secure a good husband is to cultivate those accomplishments which make a good wife ; read sensible works, learn all matter of domestic economy—sew, knit and spin— bake, wash and brew—do up collars, shirts and bosoms; and attend to all those other little nameless things which, though trivial in themselves, show a wife’s watchful care of her husband's personal comfort, and her ability to make his homo one of peace and substantial pleasure. From the St. Augustine News, 20th inst. HONORS TO THE DEAD. The burial of Major F. D. Dade’s martyr ed dead, and those Officers and Soldiers who have died in Florida, took place on Monday last. So solemn and interesting an event excited on the part of our citizens the liveliest sympathy and feeling, and afforded them by joining in with the military, the heartfelt satisfaction of commingling their tears in union with those, who had assem bled to pay the last sad duties of love to their fallen comrades. At half past 10, a gun was filed from the battery in front of the green, by a detail of 3d Artillery under Lieut. Churchill, when the Mayor and Coun cil, the Masonic Fraternity, St. Augustins City Guards, Capt. P. R. Lopez, proceeded to the St. Sebastian Bridge, to await the ar rival of the remains. In a short time, the melancholy wail of music was heard in the distance—the bright glitter of arms was seen glancing among the deep green of the woods, and the wagons covered with the stars and stripes, containing nil that was of the honored dead, moved slowly onward. It was indeed a brilliant, a melancholy spec tacle. On arriving at the public square, the cortege wheeled to the right, and proceeding up George-street, continued down to St. Francis-street, when moving up Marine street they were brought to the spot appro priated for intermenj, the garden at St. Fran cis’ Barracks. The procession under the orders of Major Belknap, Sth Infantry. Capt. G wynne, Sth Infantry, commanding the escort, Lieut. A. T. Lee, Acting Adju tant. [The remains were contained in seven wagons, each covered by the American Flag as a pall, and drawn by five elegant mules. The first and second wagons contained the soldiers and officers under Dade’s command —the third and fourth, the soldiers and offi cers killed in battle—the fifth, sixth and seventh, the officers who have died in Flo rida. The escort was composed of companies A, C and K, Sth Infantry, company F, 4th Infantry, companies]! and E, 3d Artillery, Guard of Honor under command of Lieut. Wallen, Officers of the Army as pall hearers, Medical faculty, Mayot and Alderman of St.Augußtine, Membersof the Bar and Civil officers, Masonic fraternity, St. Augustine City Guards, and citizens generally.] The remains being removed from the wagons, amid the firing of minute guns, the Rev. Mr. Waters of the Catholic Church, addressed the assembled multitude with great eloquence and beauty. The services of the Episcopal Church was read by John Beard, Esq., and a concluding prayer offer ed by the Rev. Henry Axtell. The remains were then placed in vaults prepared for their reception ; and after a salute of mus quetry, the troops retired, and were march ed into quarters. The Masonic fraternity proceeded from the tombs to the Presby terian Church, where a monody on the dead was pronounced by D. W, Whitehurst, Esq. Half hour guns were fired until sun-set, closing the solemnities of the day. And thus closed the honors awarded the victims of Indian treachery, battle and dis ease. From the Withlacoochee, whose hanks have drank the blood of Izard, to the Okachobee, the field of fame as of death— from the plain where untimely fell Mellon, McNeil, and Sanderson, to the rivers of our Atlantic border —lias the earth given up in partite dead, to rest among us. The stream, the lake, the margin of our rivers, had wit nessed the daring of these gallant spirits— the open pine barren had resounded with the fire of their musketry, and the grass water heard their rifles in the discharge of duty. Gathered by their companions in danger and glory, from the recesses of the forest and the solitude of the plain, to rest amid the habitations of man and civilized life, we leave them—sepulchered among the green of the orange tree and the aroma of its flower, with the shadow of our country’s Hag, as its folds catch the breeze from the staff of the cupalo resting on their tomb, amid the booming morning gun, the clear note of the bugle, the music of the drum, the ring of the musket, and the quarters of the garrison. Fitting home for the maty red and honored dead ? And when we, who have been the witnesses of this melancholy scene, shall have passed away —when the wilds of our border shall have again bloom ed with culture, and its solitude send forth the busy hum of men, and the song of thanks giving in greatful voices be heard in the land O D ” , , —that hallowed ground will be the resting spot of the pilgrim, as he bends at the se pulchre of the dead ! from which, if the fires of his patriotism should ever grow cold, will he kindled anew as he treads the sacred abiding place of their honored remains. The tombs, three in number, erected by the troops of the Post, in which the remains are deposited, are vaults, each about fen feet square, surrounded by a pyramid of five feet in height, rising from a grassy mound, enclosing the body of the tomb. It is de signed to cover these pyramids entirely with marble, on which will be placed the names of all other officers who have died or been killed in Florida, in addition to those deposited beneath. ©UO©O M & L □ For the “Southern Miscellany.” STANZAS. BY HENRY R. JACKSON. I. While Winter winds are whistling through The ebon corridors of night. We gather closer to the hearth And fan its embers into light; I love yonr merry laughter, boys, Oh ! let your shout be loud and long! Pass round again the pleasant joke, And sing for me your sweetest song! It. And I shall live my boyhood o’er, And see around me, side by side, The shadows of my early friends— The loved—the lost —the wept-sor —glide, Glide—wiili the forms of oihcr years— Tiie step of nir—the glance of light; And they shall sing for me their song. Their well remembered song, to night! 111. For oh ! it echoes in my dreams— Sweet music o'er the tide of years— And 1 have woke and found my eyes Filled brimful with the gushing tears ; Woke! but to mourn it hushed and gone — For scaltered is that brave, young host Along the ocean-waste of life— Too few, alas! not tempest-tost! IV, And where Joy sowed for them her flowers And watered with Hope’s golden bowl, Care trains his deadly Upas up To blast the garden of the soul, And breaks the jEolinn harp of bliss That thrilled so soil, so sweet a strain! Alas ! alas ! that happy band Shall never sing their song again ! v. But you arc wemied with the tale— Go seek some new and livelier game, And leave me here alone to gaze In silence os the flickering flame ; To gaze—and learn that ns it dies, And chilling Night-shades round me start, So fades the summer bliss of youth, And falls the Winter of the heart! Savannah, Georgia. For the “ Southern Miscellany.” THE PERFECTION OF MIND. The progressive advancement of the hu man mind, and its susceptibility of indefinite improvement, lias been a theme for ideal theorists to display their wildest imaginings —for skeptical philosophers and heaven-in spired bards to exhibit their richest mine of satire and of song. The opinion that man is physically and intellectually degenerating from his primeval vigor and strength—that Fancy hath wove her fairest garlands of the brightest flowers—that Science hath perused and Judgment criticised all the mighty man uscripts of magnificent truths that haveslum bered for cycles in nature’s deep archives— that the heart hasexpended itstenderest sen sibilities—this theory lays an icy finger up on man’s holiest emotions, and restrains with Alpine barriers his highest aspirations. A French* metaphysician has divided all impressions, produced by external objects, on the mind, into two prominent classes— Sensation and Ideas. The one, simply ex erting a transitory influence upon the present actions and deportment of the sentient be ing; and, no matter in wliat numbers he re ceives them, or by what objects produced, each one comes, passes through, and disap pears alone, traversing the bleak solitude of mind without peopling its desert plains.— The latter is permanent and indestructible ; and contain in themselves the germ of their own perpetuity. Each gem of truth, pluck ed by reflection and comprehensive thought from the mass of ignorance—though its bril -1 liancy may he tarnished by the rubbish of time, and its lustre dimmed by incumbent ages—yet its color will eventually be restor ed and add one treasure to the mighty mag- I * Benjamin Constant is here alluded to: whether his philosophy is true or false the reader must determine. a - <d-nr warn IB h af'ao©ißiLiLAST^r • azine of mind. Ideas may be forgotten for a considerable period of time, but never can be entirely annihilated. Like the hanks of our great rivers in the west, when dislodged from their position by the impetuous enemy of the swolen torrent, the spectator beholds it borne tesistlessly on the raging waters, and perhaps it is forgotten ; but could he follow in its headlong course onward, and onward, and onward, he would behold a part impeded in its progress by the projecting branch of a fallen trunk long mouldering in the stream : particle after particle is added to this common nucleus,until,finally,a broad and beautiful island blooms luxuriently be fore the bewildered beholder. The modest daisy that, in its primal state, dropped each morning’s dewy tears in the passing stream, here unfolds its beauties to the blushing morn ; the acorn here rises from its long dormant state, and in the expansive and ma jestic oak declares it is nourished by a more genial soil, and warmed by a brighter sun. Tis so with ideas; one age germinates them, a second brings them forth, while a third is enraptured with beholding the inscription, “ Complete perfection,” stamped upon its imperishable front. The oriental shepherd as he teinldd his flocks on green declivities, and watched the stars that lighted Chaldea’s plains, studied the rudimcntal pages of that science which, under Newton’s herculean hand, is now written on every planet and seen in every revolving sun. Thus, the ear lier generations stood upon the insensible ashes of their progenitors, and after spend ing their brief existence in theorising and speculating—after years of toil and trouble, and intense application, their mental drudg ery was only remunerated by the revelation of lacts which to us, at this day, appear clear and indubitable. Another generation suc ceeds them, and beginning with the impor tant truths discovered by the indefatigable exertions of their fathers, they gird them selves to the task of progressive improve ment, by striving to unlock nature’s secrets from her store house, and make the horizon of knowledge as comprehensive as possible. Since this is true, that each succeeding age, enriched by the researches of its predeces sors, commences anew the investigation of the universe, and traverses the fairy fields of science, where flowers ever bloom in virgin freshness, what ptesumptuous autocrat £rill dare define the limit of mind’s progress, or circumscribe the boundaries of its heaven ward flight ? Hail bright auspicious morn! Hail to thee, blissful period, when not only every component atom of God’s grand work manship shall breathe in clear and audible tones its long hidden truths from the retort, the compass and the crucible, but when man’s more ignoble passions shall be sub servient to judgment’s better sway, and im mortality in virtue commence her long an ticipated millenium. “Then shall the reign of mind commence on earth And starting fresh as from a second birth, Man in the sunshine of the world’s new spring, Shall walk transparent like some holy thing.” To us, at this day, a country, a city, a hearth, has been a home; but” when that Augustain age shall at last arrive, man’s home will be wherever the intellect can pierce, vivid fancy soar, or the spirit breathe the air. The organic perfectibility of the vegetable world is admitted by all scientific Botanists. The vital principle forming the vermeil tints of the violet that bloomed and blushed in the bowers of paradise is still seen in the perennial greenness of the ivy and the matchless beauty of the daliah. Is na ture mindful of the flowers of the field, and oblivions to the sublimer existence of senti ent, rational man ? Shall the flowers flour ish in unfading loveliness forever, without the vital principle becoming annihilated, and the duration of man he circumscribed by the narrow limits of a day ? Far frpm it. Our prominent benefit of the incalculable advan tages resulting from this comprehensive range of mind, will he the indefinite prolon gation of man’s existence, which will endure almost till the “feathered feet of time” shall grow weary of his ceaseless circles. “ Then, like a useless and worn out machine, It rots, perishes and passes.” If this “ pleasing hope, this fond desire, this longing after immortality,” is presump tive proof of an ulterior existence beyond the silent halls of death, why may not the in stinctive abhorrence—the faultering steps — with which even the sincere prosolyte of the Nazarine approaches the dusky confines of the tomb, as conclusively demonstrate that man desires not earthly immortality in vain ; that the elixir of life is no JJtopian dogma of the poetic past —no chimera of a heated brain. If an error, ’tis one venerable by time, and sanctioned by authority. Sir H. Davy believed that the Philosopher’s Stone could be discovered. Is the elixir of life— the fountain of perpetual youth—sought by Ponce de Leon, in the “Land of Flowers,” more irrational, more absurd ? Why, even while writing—though advocating a doctrine repugnant to the common sense of the day— does hundreds of my readers anxiously wish they were listening to the tones of some prophet whose miraculous deeds were the seals of his mission ; perusing the responses of some oracle, whose issues were heavenly truths rather than the wild phantasy of an unknown writer. Why does the aged vet eran—his brow furrowed by the corroding touch of time, his form bent by the incum bent weight of many winters—turn a retro spective glance to the halcyon days and san guine hopes of boyhood, when he was tho’t less and happy, with his palsied hand eleva ted to heaven and the large tears coursing down his care-worn cheeks, exclaim ‘Would that it were true V Why does a cloud mar the May-day beauty of the lover’s young dream, when, for the first time, he clasps his blushing bride to his throbbing bosom, and the thrilling thought flashes through his mind that age with its attendant cares will soon steal o’er him. the grave will envelop that form of faultless symmetry, and the worm banquit upon those witching charms that might even lure a seraph from his sphere ? Whv does he wish that the airy dream of the Rosicrucian could be realized ] “ Tis the divinity that stirs within him”— “ Tis coming events casting their shadows before"- ’Tis nature prompting him to abhor that ter ruination of a too brief existence which art will one day indefinitely protract. One fact wc havo metaphysically deter- mined, that mind will eventually attain to perfection. The argument might be made more conclusive hv tracing the progressive march of mind from its cradle in the Eust to the manly vigor it has displayed in modern days. Time, however, is wanting. The brevity of man’s existence is the result of ig norance. Antedeluvian longevity is ascrib able almost entirely to a more rigid adhe rence to the organic laws of the system. — Licentiousness and luxury were unknown to the patriarch of the elder world. Strange as the assertion may appear, yet death is either the result of ignorance or of a wanton violation of those organic laws which expe rience has discovered. When I apply my mind assiduously to the investigation of an abstruse mathematical problem a head-ache is the consequence. If I exercise my limbs to excess in any athletic amusement, a gen eral lassitude and debility to the whole sys tem ensues. When unconsciously I drink Prussic acid, the subtle poison instantaneous ly exerts its withering influence upon the fountain of life, and its warm current is quick ly checked. In all these cases, and in every other, diseases ate engendered in the sys tem through the instrumentality of one of the two causes above mentioned. Had I known the proper amount of tension requi site for a healthy stale of the mind, or the injurious properties of Prussic acid, the headach and death would have been sever ally avoided. Combe himself, admits that if men regulated their lives rigidly by the organic laws, their final destination would be caused by the slow and gradual wasting away of the human frame; and who will doubt if these laws were thoroughly uder stood—if the chemical properties of the different kinds of aliment that nutrifies the physical organization were perspicuously defined, and obeyed, who shall say that man’s existence would not be indefinitely prolonged—that he would survive almost until the astral worlds shall fade from time, and the sun himself “grow dim with age.” When mind attains to perfection, these laws will he known—the sun of science will approximate to the zenith, and thou sands of his worshippers awake from their long apathy, to catch “light, life, and rap ture” from his rays. ’Tis true the bowers of Eden once echoed and trembled to the edict of the Almighty, “ Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return:” O’er which the raven flaps his funeral wing.” Far be it from me to “rejudge His judg ments and be the God of God;” but this law like all others contained in his holy word, will continue unrecalled, until the functions performed by these enactments in the moral world will be discharged by the enactor in person. That period will be when the millenia] sun shall burst in daz zling splendor upon the world. That thrice hallowed era will be the joyous time when the theory I am now feebly advocating will be practically demonstrated—when this phantasy of a stranger’s brain will possess “ a local habitation and a name. To prove this let facts drawn from the great reservoir of truth be submitted to a rational l eader. I have recently perused with much pleas ure, the interesting controversy upon the subject of the Millenium, in the “Christian Advocate;” and although differing itt some particulars with both the disputants, Messrs. Cox and Whedon, nevertheless I agree with the Rev. Mr. Whedon in placing the Millenium prior, and not subsequent to the second coming of Christ. I maintain in the first place, that during that period men will survive one thousand years, and it is mo/e than probable this longevity will result from the discovery of the elixir of life. In the second place, Condoreet’s favorite theory of the perfection of mind, (which I have weak ly sustained,) will be fully developed, and his most visionary hopes more than realized". “Brief let me he.” The inspired penmen of the sacred Scriptures, when speaking of the millennium, says, “ No man shall say unto his neighbor, knowest thou the Lord ? but all shaii know itim from the least even to the greatest.” And again, “ They shall not hunt nor destroy in all my holy mountains ; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” Quo tations could be multiplied to establish the fact that, during the millennium,all tnen will be perfectly righteous —“ Christ will reign in every heart.” If then, all men are not per fectly righteous, then Christ does not reign in every heart, for the regency will be divi ded with the devil. The sea is thoroughly filled with water ; so every man will be tho roughly imbued, not only with the theoreti cal, hut the saving knowledge of the Lord. This fact, then, is conclusively established : all men at that time will be sinless Christians. But by “ one man sin entered the world, and death by sin ;” sin, therefore, is the cause of death. If you remove the cause, the effect will cease, as well in Ethics as in Nataral Philosophy. The cause will be re moved during the millennium, for all men will be sinless Christians; therefore, (and the conclusion is irresistable,) there will he no deaths for one thousand years. The Almighty has not suspended the laws of nature, or, in other words, worked a miracle for more than fifteen hundred years : it is more than pro bable he never will again, as the necessity for such displays of power has been forever removed. To what, then, can we ascribe this uncommon prolongation of man’s phys ical being ? Tis the effect of human agen cy. Chemists tell us that the interminable wilderness of worlds, —— “At whose immensity Even soaring fancy staggers,” “ and all that in them are,” is composed of fifty-three simple substances. Who will say that these fifty-three simple elements are not themselves compounds ? Why could not (and who shall dare assert?) the Omnipotent chemist did not mould this multitude of worlds from different modifications of one simple element ? The Materia Medica is not as complicated now as two centuries past; every generation it is simplified and improved. Seeing that nature exerts her power through the instrumentality of the fewest agents, is it not, then, more philo sophical to suppose that in her unseen labor atory she has compounded some one pana cea possessing every medicinal quality, rath er than these virtues should be scattered through an infinitude of objects ? Let me assure you,reader, the “Fountain of i outh” —the Elixir of Life —Is no chimera. But when will it be found ? Not till mind is perfected by ages of toil. Anri where 1 Per haps in the colored chalice of some humble flower which the beasts of the field devour not, and the herbalist disdains to cull. But will nature secrete so priceless a jewel in such an humble dwelling? Perhaps she will ; for her proudest productions are elab orated from materials of the roughest mould. Under her plastic hand, the unseemly carbon crystalizes into the glittering diamond ; the water percolating the crevices of rocks, and becoming impregnated with calcareous mat ter, decorates the dome of the cavern with a pendulous drapery of stalactites. “Those mighty spheres that gem infinity, And with undeviating aim, In eloquent silence, through the depths of space, Fursue their wondrous way,” Science, with her mystic ken, lias taught arc hut concentrated masses of nebulas, which for ages have been floating like a gossamer through the immensity of space. I must defer till another time any remarks upon the second position, viz : that Condor cet’s theory will be realized, and ntind per fected, during the millennium, with this sin gle observation, “ en passant,” that the in tellect must necessarily attain to maturity, because uninfluenced by the predominance or even existance of the baser passions. All men will be sinless Christians. Who has not remarked the comprehensive grasp of thought during the hours of sleep ? ’Tis the result of mind, when acting unbiased (in some degree) by the shackles of matter. — However, I must answer one objection to my first hypothesis, and close this rather lengthy article : “ Population left to itself will increase in a geometrical, while the means of sustentation can only he augment ed in an arithmetical progression.” In oth er words—under the fostering supervision of a perfect government, and the duration of human existence being so indefinitely prolonged, the procreation of the specie’s would be so rapid that space would not only soon be wanting for the containment of their bodies, but.the natural fecundity of the soil would speedily be exhausted, arid earth re fuse to sustain her teeming inhabitants.— Even if this dreaded evil should ever visit our world, wc may with Christian confidence believe that lie Who pronounced the bles sing, “increase and multiply,” will not then abandon the work of his own peculiar provi dence ; but that the world will then have ful filled the high destiny of its creation, and that incipient stage of immortality will begin in which we “shall neither marry nor be given in marriage, but be as the angels of God.” But “ time will be merged in the ocean of eternity” ere man’s ingenuity is so far paralyzed as to be incapable of devising schemes for personal maintenance. Earth’s vast and untried resources have never been fully developed; and thought wafted on fan cy’s suhlimest pinion would shrink back ap paled at the conception of those noble truths which even now “the darkunfatlruned caves of ocean bear.” Surely untrodden regions of unbounded fertility—illimitable succes sions of spicy groves, and towering forests— trackless pastures irrigated by prolific o ceans—rivers upon whose surfacethe proud est traversers of Neptune’s highway might ride securely safe—and ever-verdant isles that float like emeralds upon crystal seas, were not created for eternal solitude and si lence. Lriitil these are peopled, and one unanimous anthem like the “ mingling of many winds” burst from the myriads of hu man voices, in adoration of the same myste rious Lord, the command and the blessing, “ increase and multiply,” must continue un recalled by its Great First Speaker. May not Egypt’s fruitfulness again revive in more than primeval vigor, and Palestine’s rivulets again flow rich with “ milk and honey ?” HARRINGTON. Greensboro'. For the “Southern Misctllany.” LETTER FROM MAJOR JONES. NO. 111. Pineville, August 29,1542. To Mr. Thompson : Dear Sir —Jest as I spcctcd, only a thun derin sight wurse ! You know I said in my last that we wer gwine to have a betallion muster in Pineville. Well, the muster has tuck place, and I reckon such other doins you never beam of afore. I come in town the night afore, with my regimentals in a bundle so they couldn’t he siled by ridin, and soon as I got my breck fast, I begin rigin out for the muster. I had a bran new pair o’ boots, made jest a pur pos, with long legs to ’em, and a shaperde braw.with one of the tallest kind o’ red feth ers in it, a blu cloth regimental cote, all titi vated off’ with gold anil buttons, and a pair o’ yaller britches of the finest kind. Well, when l went to put ’em on, I couldn’t help but cuss all the talers and shoemakers itt Georgia. In the fust place, my britches like to busted and wouldn’t reach moren half-way to my jacket, then it tuck too niggers and ’bout a pint o’ soap to git my boots on ; and my cote had skirts enuff for a bed quilt, and stood rite strait out behind like a fan-tail* pigin—it wouldn’t hang rite no how you could pull it. I never was so dratted mad, specially when tliar was no time to fix things, for the fellers wer comitt in in gangs and be ginin to call for me cum out and take the cummand. Eckspectation was ris consider able high, cause 1 was pledged to quip my self in uniformity to the law, if I was ’lected. Well, bimeby I went to the dorc and told Bill Skinner and Tom Cullers to fix their cumpanys, and have ’em all redy when I made my pearattce. Then the fuss com menced. Thar want but one drum in town and Bill Skinnor swore that should drum for his cumpany cause it ’longed to that beat, and Tom Cullers swore, the nigger should drum for his cumpany, cause lie ’longed to his crowd. Thar was the old harry to pay, and it was gittin wurse. I didn’t know what to do, for they wer all cumin to me ’bout it. Thinks I, I must show my thority; so says I, “ in the name of the State o’ Georgia I cummand the drum to drum for me. I’s Major o’ this betallion and I’s cummander o’ the tnusick too!” The thing tuck fust rato; that 1 was no more spitting ’bout it, and I set the niggers a drummin and filin as has hard as they could split rite afore the tavern dore. It was monstrous diffikil to git the men to full in ; that- bant been none o’ them deform ed drttnkerds down here yet,and the way the* fellers does love peach and bunny is mazin', Bimeby Bill Skirmer lurk a stick and made a long sit ate streak in the satid,and then hol lered out, “ Oh, yes! oh, yes ! all you as blongs to Coon-hdl!er heat is to git in a strnte line on this trail !” Tom Cullers dun so too for his heat, and the fellers begin to string along in a stiate line, and in bout a quarter of a ower they wer all settled like bees on a been pole, party considerable strnte. Alter a wile they sent word to me that they was all redy, and 1 had my horse fetched up to toth er side o’ the tavern, hut when I cum to him thebominahle fool didn’t know me sum how and begin kickitt and prancin, and cavortin bout like mad. I made the niggers hold him till I got on, then I sent word round to the drummer to drum like blazes as soon as lie seed me turn the corner, and to the men to he reddy to salute. My sword kep raltlin agin the side o’ my horse and the fool was skeered so he didn’t know which etui he stood on; and kep dancin about and squat tin and rarein so I couldn’t hardly hold on to him. The nigger went and told the men what I said, and when I thought they was all reddv, round I went in a knitter with my sash and regimentals flyin and my red Teth er waveitt as graceful as a corn tossel in a whirlwind, when jest as I got to the corner there was a fuss like heaven and yeatb was cumin together—rattletebang, bang, wher-r ----r-r-r went the drum, and the nigger blov. the fife rite out strafe.till his eyes wf>s.-,,i ; ; his head—hurra! hey-y-y ! hurra! went nil. the niggers and every body else—mv hotsc wheelin and pitchin woso than ever tile up to the muster —when fore I rould draw my bretli Hang ! bang! bang de hang! hntm! bang! went evty gun in the crowd, at:d all I knowd was, I was whirlin, and pitchin,and swingir. about in the smoke and fire til] I cum full length rite on the ground, “ in all the pride, pomp, and citcumstances of glori ous war,” as Mr. SLakespare says. Lucky enough I didn’t git hurt, but my cote was split dear up to the roller,my yaller britches busted all to flinders, and my sltapetdebravv and fetber all nocked into a gin shop. Thun der and lightnin, thinks I, what must be a man’s feelins in a rale battle, whar they’re shootin bullets 1 Cum to find out, it was all a mistake ; the men didn’t know nothing bout military ticktacks, and thought I ment a rcglar fourth of July salute. I had to lay by my rigimentals—but I knovved my karaetcr was at stake ns a offi cer, and 1 tarmined to go on with the mus ter. So I tole Skinner and Cullers to git the men strait agin, and when they was all in a line I sorted ’em all out— the fellers what had guns 1 put in front, them what had sticks in the rare, and them what had no shoos down to the bottom by themselves, so nobody wouldn’t tramp on titer tose. A good meny of ’em begin to forgit* which was ther right hand and which was ther left, and some of ’em begun to he very diffikil to manage, so I termined to march ’em rite out to a old field wliar they couldn’t git no more licker, specially settee I was bleeged to pear in my old clothes. Well, arter 1 got ’em all fixed, snvs I, “musick! quick time! by the tight flank, file left, ‘match !”—they stood for bout a minit lookin at tr.e —“by flank,mar-r-r-ch!” says I, loud as I co!d holier—then they begun lookin at onetmther and hnnehin onenothcr with ther elbows, and the fust thing I knowed they was all twisted up in a snarl, goin both ways at both ends, and all marchin thro other in the middle, in all sorts of belter skelter fashion. “Halt!” says I, halt! whar upon yeatlt is gwine!” and tliar they was, nil*in a huddle. They knowed better, but jest wanted to bother me, I bliev. “Never mind,” says 1 “gentlemen, we’ll try that revolution over agin.” So when I got ’em all strait agin, I spluined it to ’em and gin ’em the word so they could understand it—“ Forward march!” and away they went, riot all together, but two by two, every fel ler waitin til his turn cum to step, so fore the barefoot ones got slatted, 1 couldn’t hardly see to tother end of the roe. I let ’em go ahead til we got to the old field, and then I tried to stop ’em, but 1 had ’em in gangs all over the field irt no time. “Close up!” said Ins loud as I could holler hut they only-looked at me. Git into a strate line agin,says I. That brought ’em all together, and I told ’em to rest, afore I put ’em thro the manuel. Bout this time out cum a whole parcel of fellers with some kandidates, and wanted I should let ’em dress the batallion. I tole ’em I had no jections long as they didn’t kick up no row. Well, the men wer all high up for hearin the speeches of the kandidates and got round thick as flies round a fit gourd. Ben Ansley, he’s the pop] are.st kandidate down here—begun the t-! ->w h\ gittin on a stump and tukiti his hat off rite in the brilin sun ; Feller-sitizens, says he, ] spose you all know as how my friends is fotclied me out to repersent this county ir the next legislater—l am posed to counter fit mutiny and shinplasters, I am posed to abolition and free niggers, to the ntorus mul ticaulus and the Florida war, and all manner of slrecoonery. (So is I! said Boss Ankles.) If I is lected your respectable representa tion, I shall sport gooeftnunny, twenty cents for cotton, and no taxes, and shall go for bol isltin prisonment for debt and the Central Bank. I hope you’ll all cum up to the poles like a man and vote like a patriot for your very humble servant —Amen sand then he jumped down and went round shukin hands. Hurra for Ben Ansley! Ansley for ever! shouted every feller. Down with the cussed bank—devil take the shinplasters and all the rale-roads ! said Captain Skinner. Silence for a speech from Squire I’ettybone! Hur ra for Pettybone! Squire Pettybone was a little short fat man, wliat had run afore, and knowd how to talk to the boys. Fiends and feller-sitizens, says he, I is once more a knn ilidate for your sufferings, and want to splait) my sentiments to you. You have jist heart? a grate deal about the Central Bank, T aint no bank man, but I is a frend to the pore man, and is always teddy to stand up for his rites. When the Central Bank put out its mutiny it was good, and rich men got it and made use of it when it was good, but now they want to buy it in for less nor wliat its worth to pay their dets to the hank, and they is tryin to put it down, and make the pore men lose by it. What does they want to