Newspaper Page Text
said he. “ No; I have seen no lady : what
should she do here 1 There are no ladies on
this field but such as deal in old clothes,
false teeth, and young hair.” I went fran
licly forward. 1 cannot tell you what 1
saw, or among whom 1 passed, it was all so
new, so horrid, and so strange to me. I soon
came nigh to ground, where troops were
before me, advancing and fighting, and
where cannon halls struck and ploughed
the earth- near me. I felt no feat—l had
lost solfi'hness —I was absorbed in fear and
anxiety foi another, for a tender, timid fe
male*-whom I had known front a child.—
My recollection is but a confused recollec
tion (if naked corpses, and pale and bleed
ing men, that sat upon the ground, and cried
for Water.” and called aloud on “ CitnisT” j
—the Prince of Peace. Dismounted guns, ,
and broken wheels, the fragments of explo- ;
ded powder-waggons, and the sulphurous
smell, and horses slain stiff', or rolling and
kicking in their dying agonies! Heavens,
what a scene ! 1 ran on—on. At last I catnc
upon some muddy and trampled ground
near* Rossthal—l went forward—l came
upon a spot covered with killed and wound
ed. They were principally cuirassiers and
dragoons, and their dead horses, and many
Austrian infantry among them slain with
the sword : the horsemen had died of gun- j
shot and musketry. None of these were
stripped : the horsemen lay in theii massive
boots, and stained cuirasses, their helmets
a few paces off, or yet hanging by the net
scales. Here, in the very midst, in her
robe of white, drenched with the pouring
rain, lay a female form upon her face, the
hands stretched above her naked head. It
was Maria : she was quite dead—no wound
—not a sprinkle of blood upon her gar
ments; how, or of what she died none may
tell, but He that Wove the tissue of her ten
der heart. The silver chord of her sweet
life had snapped amid this scene of violence
and desolation. There lay immediately by
her side the corpse of an officer, so disfi
gured in face as not to he recognisable, hut
in form and dress resembling the figure of
Altenberg. I had not strength of mirid or
frame at the moment to do more than to
seat me by her side, and watch the precious
body till I could find means To remove it.
I tremble as I look back upon the arrival
of Altenberg. His brigade, having suffered
heavily, had been ordered back into ilio. city,
to remain in quarters and refresh, lie hail
learned at his house whither Maria was
gone; and ho came up to the ground near
Rossthal at a swift gallop. I see him in his
long white cloak and gleamy helmet, with
his pale face of woe, and his fearful gaze,
when he alighted and took the body in his
arms. “ Vou should not have suffered her
to do this,” he said to me, reproachfully.—
My tongue clave to the roof of tny mouth
—I could not answer him. He placed the
body on his horse—mounted—and held it
before him ; one of its arms thrown over
his shoulder, and the body pressed close to
his heart; and so he rode back at a mourn
ful pace from the city. I walked sad and
silent by bis side.
I remember, as vve passed the redoubt on
our return, Napoleon stood by the road-side
with Beithier. He recognized the uniform
of Altenberg’s corps ns we passed ; and as
it rained’ heavily, and Altenberg held his
precious burden beneath his ample cloak,
he did not observe bv what he was encum
bered, and thought him wounded. “ Not
wounded, brave officer, 1 hope,” said he.
“ The regiments Zastrovv and Altenberg
have covet ed themselves with glory : 1 shall
not forget to recommend you to your king.
It is the Colonel Altenberg, iSs'itnotl” he
added, rather impatient at no reply.
“ It was the Colonel Altenberg, sire ; hut
he is too badly wounded to render you or
his king more service.’”
He rode on ; Napoleon took a pinch of
snuff'; but when Altenberg had passed, I
mentioned Ins misfortune. The conqueror
started, drummed his fingers on the lid of
his snuff box with some emotion, called
hastily for his horse, and turned away.
It may seem strange to you, added the
narrator, when he closed, that 1 did not
speak to Altenberg this morning in passing;
but though we are true friends, and our
friendship is cemented by the one only
abiding principle—a love to the Redeemer,
the Prince of Peace—though we corres-
I>oiid, and occasionally meet, yet, to this
tour, the sight of me greatly affects him ;
and as I could not stop, and was at the mo
ment iri a public vehicle with strangers, 1
withdrew myself from his regnid. Upon
the whole, Altenberg has grieved down this
blow wonderfully. He has applied to the
light physician; he has found the tight bal
sam ; he is an instrument of blessing to many
around him; he is a Christian,! a quietist,
and loves peace.
MARRIAGE of the CZAR ALEXIS,
Father of Peter the Great.
In former times a cuiious custom was ob
served in Russia, when the Czar proposed
to enter the holy marriage state. Several
high officers of the Court were despatched
to different parts of the imperial dominions,
to assemble together about fifty or sixty of
the most lovely daughters of the noblest
Russian families. From this elite of Mus
covite beauty the Imperial bride was chosen.
The young ladies were then conducted to !
the Kremlin at Moscow. There they re- j
mained, unseen by anyone except the Czar, !
or those to whom the favor was granted by J
Imperial*permission until the solemn day, j
when, in the presence of his assembled cour- !
tiers and ministers, the Sovereign named I
the fortunate fair one with whom it was his
high will and pleasure to share the throne.
Alexis, the son of Michael, and the father
of Peter the Great, used sometimes, after
the manner of liaroun al Raschid, to quit i
the palace in disguise, and visit, in some as- |
sumed humble character, the houses of the
citizens and huts of the peasantry. If he
was recognized by any of the nobles or per- J
sons connected with the Court, they were !
commanded to respect his incognito, and i
were expressly forbidden to treat him with !
any greater degree of respect than such as
might be due to his assumed rank and con
dition. I3y. this means he saw every thing
with his own eyes, and learned many facts,
the knowledge of which would not easily
have penetrated within the boundaries of a
Court.. It) this jnannpr he not utifrequently \
paid the most unexpected visits to his favor- |
ites, sat down to dinner with them, and spent j
a few agreeable hours in their iumily cir- j
, des, layintr aside all the etiquette of sover
-1 eignty. lie was particularly fond of taking
by surprise the Boyar Matweef, for whom
he entertained a cordial friendship, and who
was one of the principal councillors of the
Crown.
One day, at a time when lie was least ex
pected, Alexis piesentcd himself at Mat
vveef’s country house, at a short distance
from the capital. He was dressed in the
uniform of a captain of the Imperial guard.
Both host and visiter started ; Matweef, be
cause he supposed the Emperor to be far
off, anil in a totally different direction; and
Alexis, because he beheld, seated at Mnt
weef’s dinner table, a young lady whose
beauty powerfully attracted liis attention.
In obedience to the Czar’s injunction, Mat
weef received him merely as an officer of
his acquaintance, inviting him to seat him
self at the table and partake of the family
dinner.
At first the conversation was maintained
exclusively between Alexis and Matweef,
but at length the Czar drew in the fair
stranger to bear a part in it. He was charm
ed with the intelligence of her rematks and
her graceful manner of expressing herself;
and lie was not a little sorry when she re
tired at the conclusion of the repast.
“ Who is that young lady 1” said he, ea
gerly addressing Matweef, as soon as she
had left the apartment.
“ That is Natalia Nerishkin, the daughter
of a poor but estimable nobleman, whose
straightened circumstoncesohliee him to live
in a secluded village, and who lias solicited
me to superintend the education of his only 1
child. I have,” pursued Matweef, “ execu- !
ted this task to the best of my ability ; and
I mustjadd my labor lias not been thrown
away. Joined to a brilliant talent and high
ly cultivated mind, Natalia possesses a gen
tle and amiable disposition, which endears
her to every one; in short, I love Iter as
though she were my own daughter.”
“ Let her continue to pursue her educa
tion underyourcare,”said the Czar. “Spare
no expense for her instruction, 1 will defray
it; and it is not impossible I may find a
husband for her. Does she know who I
am t”
“ No, Sire, she seldom goes out, and has
never seen your majesty before.”
“Do not let her know my rank. Let
her believe that. 1 atn merely an Officer of
the Guards.”
Alexis soon repeated his visit to Mat
vveef’s country-house; and found the beau
tiful Natalia more charming than on his first
introduction to her. He soon came a third
and fourth time, and at length his visits were
repeated without fail every day. Natalia,
on her part, felt daily increasing pleasure in
the society of her new acquaintance, and
supposing him to he merely a poor officer
arid a friend of her foster father, her beha
vioi towards him was marked with unre
strained candor, which ictit additional charms
to her animated conversation.
Meanwhile Matweef found himself in a
very embarrassed position. He observed
the daily increasing intimacy between Nat
alia and Alexis, yet ilaredL not venture on
any step which might lead to interrupt it;
nevertheless lie fell it to be bis duty to warn
the daughter of his old ftiend against the
snare* of seduction, of which she could en
tertain no suspicion. His uneasiness on this
point was the greater, inasmuch as he knew
that Alexis had a plan of marriage in con
templation, and he naturally concluded that
the future Czarina, whoever she might be,
would not be very well pleased to bear of
the assiduous attention of the Monarch to
his fair protege.
The day fixed for the choice of the im
perial bride was fast approaching; tiie Krem
lin contained within its walls sixty of the
fairest daughters of Russian nobility ; jew
ellers, tailors and dress-makers had all com
pleted their orders ; and every thing was in
readiness for the interesting day. The
Boyars thronged the capital full of eager
ness to know the family on whom the Mon
arch proposed to confer the honor of Impe
rial alliance. All Moscow was in motion ;
the troops of the garrison were paraded in
front of the palace, and the ringing of bells
mingled with the joyous shouts of the pop
ulace.
The Grand Hall of the Kremlin presented
a splendid picture. The nobles were hab
ited in their rich national costumes, adorn
ed with costly furs ; the ladies arranged in
the gorgeous silks end cashmeres of the
East, whilst in every direction the eye was
dazzled by a profusion of diamonds and
other jewels. By command of the Czar,
all appeared masked with the exception of
the beauteous group from which Alexis was
about to select the partner of his throne.
To that group all eyes were naturally di
rected. Each of the fair candidates was so
remarkable for grace and beauty, that it
was impossible to guess to which among
j them the preference might be awarded.—
j The Princess Elizabeth Barbarykin attract
ed a considerable share of attention ; many
thought she outshone her rivals—an opinion
which a certain air of self-complacency
seemed to indicate that the young lady her
self shared ; and truly her surpasssng beau
ty, no less than her noble descent, well be
fitted her to wear the Imperial diadem.
Admiration and interest had reached their
utmost height, when a mask entered whose
dress eclipsed in splendor all the rest. He
was followed by a numerous retinue. As
soon as he appeared, the words, “ the Czar!
the Czar!” tesounded through the hall in a
sort of busy whisper. How triumphant
was the delight of the Princess Barbarykin
when the splendid mask advanced and grace
fully addressed her. She trembled and
j turned pale when he stepped aside to speak
! to other ladies; hut lie returned to her a
i second and a third time, and the fair Eliza
beth already beheld in imagination the
crown on her lit ad and her rivals at her feet.
Meanwhile, a quiet spectator of the pass- I
iug scene, Natalia Narishkin, simply dress
ed, and unadorned by either gold or jewels,
sat in a remote corner of the hali. She
was accompanied only by old Matweef; but
they were soon joined by tlieit friend, the
j Captain of the Guards, who made himself |
known to them, though, like the rest of the j
. company, he was masked. Natalia, with 1
8(D ID 1 SIB 9
I her accustomed frankness, entered into con
! vernation with him, and inquired whether
| the Czar had yet determined his choice.
“ Not yet,” answered Alexis. “ But per
mit me to conduct you to a place higher up
the hall, where you will have a better view
of his Majesty when lie unmasks.”
“Excuse me,” said Natalia, “I prefer
remaining here.”
“ But who knows,” pursued Alexis, smi- ’
ling, “ whether his Majesty might not make
choice of you, if he saw you 1”
Indeed, Captain, I am not ambitious of
so high an honor. I seek not to rival Prin
cess Barbarykin.”
“ You are too diffident of your own mer
its, Natalia ! You may perchance be des
tined to ensure the happiness of your Sov
-1 ereign—of your country !”
“ My hopes of happiness ate centered in
a far humbler destiny,” replied Natalia with
a sigh, whilst her eyes suffused with tears.
Had Alexis wanted proof that lie was
beloved by Natalia, the tone in which these
words were tittered must have convinced
him. In anecstai y of joy, at finding the
bumble Captain preferred to the powerful
Monarch, he advanced to the centre of the
ball, and exclaimed, in the tone of one ac
customed to command—“ Unmask!”
The buzz of conversation was instantly
bushed, and unbroken stillness prevailed.
Every eye was directed to Alexis, and eve
iv heart beat with intense anxiety. Who
cat; describe the confusion of Princess Bar
barykin, w hen, mi t lie removal of masks, she
discovered the gallant individual, who had
addressed her so many Haltering compli
ments, was no other than Chopkin, the
I Court Fool! And how gr eat was the astoti
j ishment of all present, w hen the Czar him
-1 self, placed the crown on the brow of Nat
alia Narishkin, exclaiming—“ Boyars of
Moscow, behold your Cza'ina /”
U I T=—l——■B——■
¥ >3 E M y m©uQ ®¥
“ Care to our coffin adds a nail no doubt.
But every grin of laughter draws one out!”
Strapped Pantaloons — ln all Over ! —To
laugh at the mishaps of others, is not gener
ally accounted generous ; yet there ate oc
casions of this character, w’hen to look grave
exceeds “ all powers of face.” Such was
the case in this city a few mornings since.
It was early in the day, when the wharf
at the packet basin was lined with travel
ers about to take the packets, and lookers
on, that a young man issued from one of
the offices and approached the canal for
the purpose of giving an ink-stand ablution.
Ilis pantaloons were strapped down to the
extreme of the fashion, making the act of
stooping one of no little effort and risk.—
The first essay to plunge the ink-stand into
the water, was a failure, while the strain,
consequent on it, caused a succession of
snaps and cracks, indicating a giving way of
some part of the strapped pantaloons. Gain
ing his perpendicular again, the young man
threw a little more force into his genuflec
tiye effort, but just as the object sought was
on the point of being gained, the straps un
able longer to endure the strain to which
they were subjected, gave way, simultane
ously causing a nadir dip of the head and
a zenith pitch of the heels, and by conse
qunce, as neat a plunge into tlie basin, of
tlie|hody owning these head and heels,as the
most fastidious diver could desire to see.
It was done scientifically and to the delight
of a large circle of spectators, who testified
tlieir appreciation by no chary use of lungs
and gestures. Soon, however, the submer
ged one emerged to the light of day, and
with his first recovered breath, exclaimed—
“ D n the straps ; and n the basin and
all those arouud it.” Let this he a caution
to those who are well strapped down, to
beware bow they venture on experiments
involving the possibility of an involuntary
“ bath.”— Rock. Daily Ado.
A Cautious Judge. — The late Chief lla
roti O’Grady tried two most notorious fel
lows al the Carlow assizes for high wav
robbery. To the astonishment of the court
as of the prisoners themselves they vvete
found not guilty. As they were being re
moved from the bar the judge, in that man
ner so peculiarly his own, addressing the
jailor, said, “Mr. Murphy, you will gteatly
ease my mind if you keep these two res
pectable gentlemen until half past seven
o’elock, fori mean to set out for Dublin at
five, and I should like to have at least two
hours start of them.”
A dog seizing upon a coil of sausages.
I°.| ‘ • O *
began tearing them to pieces, apparently in
great fury. “ Why, neighbor,” said a friend
standing by, wliat on earth’s the matter with
the critter, that he tackles them sassengers
with such wrath I” “ Well, I’m sure 1 don't
know,” replied the astonished pedlar, “un
less it is because they are made of a do”
that lie had a fight with yesterday !”
The Jeffersonian, of Mecklenburg, (N.
C.) complains bitterly of not being credited
for certain aitides taken from that paper.
Why, what upon the “ ycth” can the man
be thinking about ? In these hard times, if
apolitical editor can get a credit for the
common “ necesaries of life,” he may think
himself well off. —Sandcrsville Telescope.
Ancient History.
come up and tell me who was Cleopatra!”
“ Cleopatra was sister to one of the py
ramids of Hegypt, and come to her unhap
py cetul by swalieriti’ of a wasp.”
“ Good boy, good boy ; ‘you’ll be a Gib
bon one of these days. - ’
Rustic Politeness. —The father of tbe
present Lord Abingdon, who was remarka
ble for his statelines of manner, ono day
riding through a village in the vicinity of
Oxford, met a lad dragging a calf along the
road, who. when his lordship came up, made
a stop, and stared him full in the fuc.e. His
lordship asked the boy if he knew him.—
He replied, “ Ees.” “ What is my name!”
said his lordship. “Why, Lord Abingdon,”
replied the lad. “ Then why don’t you take
off your hat ]” “So 1 will zur,” said the
boy, “if ye'll hold the calf.
“The fare’s reduced,” as thp feJJojvsaid
- when he dined on a single cracker’.
M 0 *1 © I L
John Randolph. —l remember some years
since to have seen John Randolph in Balti
more. I bad frequently read and heaid
descriptions of him, and one day, as I was
standing in Market, now Baltimore street, I
remarked a tall, thin, unique looking being
, hurrying toward me with a quick impatient
step, evidently much annoyed by a crowd of
boys who were following close to his heels,
not in the obstreperous mirth with which
they would have followed a crazy or drunk
en man, or an organ grinder and his monkey,
but in the silent, curious wonder with which
they have haunted a Chinese bedecked in
full costume. I instantly knew the individ
ual to be Randolph from the descriptions.
I therefore advanced towards him that I
might make a full observation of liis person
without violating the rules of courtesy in
stopping to gaze at him. As he approached,
lie occasionally turned towards the boys
with an er.gry glance, but without saying
anything, and then hurried on as if to out
strip them; but it would not do. They fol
lowed close on behind the orator, each one
said nothing to his companions. Just be
fore I met him he stopped a Mr. C., a cash
ier of one of the banks, said to be as odd a
fish as John himself. I loitered in a store
close by, unnoticed, remarked the Roanoke
orator for a considerable time, and really he
was the strangest looking being I ever beheld.
His 1. tig thin legs, about as thick as a
strong walking cane, and of much such a
shape, were encased in a pair of tight small
clothes, so tight that they seemed part or
parcel of the limbs of the wearer. Hand
some white stockings were fastened with
great tidiness at the knees by a small gold
buckle, and over them, coming about half
ways up the calf, were a pair of what, I be
lieve, are called hose, and country knit. He
wore shoes. They were old fashioned, and
fastened only with buckles—huge ones.—
He trod like an Indian, without turning liis
toes out, hut planking them down straight
ahead. It was the fashion in those days to
wear a fan-tailed coat, with a small collar
and buttons far apart behind, and a few on
the breast. Mr. Randolph’s were the re
verse of all this, and instead of his coat be
ing fan-tailed, it was what we believe the
knights of the needle call swallow-tailed;
the collar was immensely large, the buttons
behind were in kissing proximity, and they
sat together as close on the breast as the
feasters at a crowded public festival. His
waist was remarkably slender; so slender
that, as he stood with bis arms akimbo, lie
could easily, as l thought, with his long bony
fingers, have spanned it. Around him his
coat, which was very tight, was held together
by one button, anil it: consequence, an inch
or more of tape, to which it was attached,
was perceptible where it was pulled through
the cloth. About his neck he wore a large
white cravat, in which his chin was occa
sionally buried as he moved liis head in con
versation ; no shirt collar was perceptible ;
every other person seemed to pride himself
upon the size of his, as they were worn
large. Mr. Randolph’s complexion was
precisely that of a mummy, withered saffron,
dry and bloodless; you could not have pla
ced a pin’s point upon liis face, where you
would not have touched a wrinkle. His
lips were thin, compressed and colorless;
the chin, beardless as a boy’s, was broad
for the size of liis face, which was small;
his nose was straight, with nothing remark
able in it, except it was too short. He wore
a fur cap, which lie took off, standing a few
minutes uncovered. I observed that his
head was quitesmall; a characteristic which
is saiil to have marked many men of talent.
Byron and Chief Justice Marshall, for in
stance.
Self made Men. —You take the whole
population, select from it the fifty men who
are most distinguished for talents or any des
cription of public usefulness, and I will an
swer for it, they are nil, every one of them,
men who begun in the world without a dol
lar. Look into the public councils, and
who are they that take tiie lead there TThey
are men who made their own fortunes ; self
made men, who began with nothing. The
rule is universal. It pervades our courts,
State and Federal, irom the highest to the
lowest. It is true of all the professions. It
is so now ; it lias been so ; at any time since
1 have known tlie public men of the States
or the nation ; it will be so while our pres
ent institutions continue. Yon must throw
a man upon liis own resources to bring him
out. The struggle which is to result in
eminence, is too arduous, and must he con
tinued too long to be encountered and main
tained voluntarily, or unless as a matter of
life aud death. He who has a fortune to
fall upon, will slacken from his efforts, and
finally relit e from the competition. With
me it is a question whether it is desirable
that a patent should be able to leave his son
any property at all.
Who is the Christian Woman ? —She
who bends over the couch of infancy—the
cradle bed of our young and yet unfledged
existence, whispering love and prayer in
those tender cars that thrill with delight as
an Eolian trembles under the kissing zephyr.
She who kindly guides the step of youth.—
She who bends over the pillow of pain, dis
arming anguish of half its excruciating ag
ony. She who grasps the couch of death,
where science dare no longer contend with
the king of terrors, and still retires from the
unequal task. Then Christian woman’s
hour hath come, and affection struggles
with death, and cries to the dull ear of the
tomb, give me back my love ! And while
she kisses away the calmmy dews of disso
lution, she wrestles with the enemy while
hope anil life remain—nor will she leave
the dead—no, no, the poor, pale remains of
the loved ones are dear to her still. She
strews roses round her bier—and often in
far distant years, in evening’s solemn hour,
or bneath the silver moonlight, she revists
the graves by others forgotten and unknown.
She comes like a lofty spirit, noiseless and
tearful, and holy, to call up luxury of her
still unwasted love.
Modesty. —The first of all virtues is inno
cence ; the next is modesty. If we banish
modesty out of the world, she carries away
with her half the virtue that is in it.
The History of a Day. —Every day eigh
ty-six thousand four hundred mortals die !
some by violence, others of old age; some
in battle .or by shipwreck; some starved,
and others murdered. In the course of one
single day, how many brave ships go down
at sea, and are never heard of more! How
many palaces and castles, built for a thou
sand years, tumble into ruins, filling the air
with dust; or perish by slow decay. How
many births ton ; exceeding the number of
deaths ! and marriages ! and then again the
churches, and mountains, and trees, that
vanish every day from the face of the earth!
How many Kings, Princes, Nobles, Thrones,
are swept away forever ! How many pris
oners are lifted up, and led forth, and set
free ; and how many debtors given back to
their bleeding families ; and all in a single
day ! Oppressors rebuked, as by thunder
from the skies; the mighty overthrown,
like Pharaoh and his host; and the lowly
summoned, as by the blast of a trumpet, to
take their places among the rulers of the
earth ! What a subject for a poem !
Gifts. —Gifts however trifling, add to
the general stock of harmless pleasure, by
quickening the affections, and nourishing the
growth of those sympathies which bind ns to
each other. They are eloquent in their si
lence, and speak most unpretendingly of
love, friendship, and kind remembrance.—
The affection is poor which can be told, and
so the youngest of Lear’s daughters felt
when she resolved “to love and be silent,”
but it will, nevertheless, find ways of indica
ting its presence, as a violet reveals itself by
its perfume. When it speaks to us by gifts
they should be welcome, for they are the
sunshine of a loving heart, and like sunshine
should he received as heavenly visitants,
bringing with them warmth and gladness.
In a paper entitled Forensic Eloquence,
in the last number of the Knickerbocker,
there are some good things—for example ;
Modes of obtaining the good-will of Juries.
—“ The contrivances of counsel to obtain
the good-will of the juiy are sometimes
very ingenious and amusing. Tt was said
by an eminent lawyer in one of the Eastern
States, when speaking of a learned brother,
that the latter had the advantage of him in
one respect. He was in the habit of using
tobacco, and when engaged in his argument,
would turn to some prominent juryman
who was a lover of the weed, and in an nfl'-
handed familiar way ask him for a quid.—
The juryman flattered at finding such a
similarity of tastes and habits between him
self and the dignified counsel, would follow
the example, and the good impression made
on liis mind was not unficquently transfered
from the advocate to his cause. Even so
eminent an orator as Patrick Henry did not
disdain to have recourse to vulgar phrases
and vulgar modes of pronunciation, to gain
the favorable ear of the illiterate ; and Miss
Martineau relates that Webster, at the trial
of the Knapps, made careful inquiries into
the dispositions and pursuits of those to
whom he W’as about to speak.”
Common Sense. —The London Commer
cial List of May 17th says : “The arrival
of a large quantity of Manufactures from
the U. Slates, has for some time been the
general theme in the city. Producing as
America does the finest and largest quantity
of cotton in the wot Id, there appears to us
no reason why the inhabitants there should
not become extensive manufacturers ; and
however injurious it may be to our com
merce, the time will come when America
will require little from any other country.
The measure adopted by Congress are cal
culated to encourage industry at home, bv
laying heavy duties on articles impoited
from abroad.
Death by Lightning. —Killed instantan
eously, on Wednesday, 2 o’clook, p. m, 7th
instant, at the residence of her father, near
Herbon, Washington county, by a shock of
lightning Martha Elizabeth, daughter of
Isaac R. Youngblood, aged 19 years, 4
-months, and 27 days.
During a thunder storm, she unfortnate
ly stepped to the hack door of the house,
within two feet of which stands a large, tall
Lombardy poplar,which was struck by a tre
mendous charge of electricity at the very
moment she reached the door, shivering the
tree to its base, and a part of the fluid di
verging from the direction of its course,
tore up the shingles of the roof above the
door for several feet, split the timbers of
the adjacent door, melting off the heads of
nails in the door and facings, and passing
through her body, instantly deprived ber of
life ! Bruised spots were numerous on her
head, where the electricity had entered, her
shoes were rent into strings, her clothes
caught fire, and a thimble which she had in
her bosom was partially melted!—Sandcrs
ville Telescope, YMhinst.
The women of America. —De Tocque
ville, in his book on “ Democracy in Amer
ica,” pays the following tribute to the vir
tue and worth of the women of our land :
—“ As for myself, Ido not hesitate to avow,
that, although the women of the United
States are confined within the narrow circle
of domestic life, and their situation is in
some respects one of extreme dependance,
I have nowhere seen women occupying a
loftier position; and if I w’ere asked to
what the singular prosperity and growing
strength of that people ought mainly to be
attributed, I should reply—to the superiori
ty of their women.”
Dr. Webster. —We ate gratified to learn
that among the valuable papers left by Dr.
Webster, in possession of his son, are an
autobiographical memoir, embracing the
prominent incidents in his most eventful life:
and also a “ Synopsis of Words in Twenty
Languages,” to which he devoted nearly
ten of the best years of his long life arrang
ing the most important words in eaqit lan
guage, “ under the same radical letters,
with a translation of the significations, and
references from one to another when the
senses are similar, by which he was ena
bled to discover the affinities between dif
ferent languages, and the primary physical
idea of an original word, from which the
secondary senses have branched forth.”—
New Ilaecn Courier , ;
Singular Death. —The Cincinnati Sun of
Thursday says—” Some time last week a
man was found on Deer creek bridge, dead’
in a singular position. It appears the fellow
had been stealing bogs through the nigl*
and made off with them safely, and was ( , n
his fourth voyage, but getting weary, ] m( j
stopped to rest. The feet of the a’nirhal
were tied with a cord and slung over lij 8
head, and as he leaned upon the railings, as
is supposed, the hog slipped over the side
choking the man to death.” r
©UQ©O Nl A L □
For the “ Southern Miscellany.”
LETTER FROM MAJOR JONES.
NO. XX.
Pincri/le, June 19, 1543.
To Mr. Thompson :
Hear Sir —Every thing’s went on pretty
smooth sense 1 writ my last letter to you
Mary soon got over her scar e, hut the way
she’s mad at cousin Pete won’t wear off ft,
a coon’s age. She ses lie musent never put
his foot in our house, if he don’t want to
get Ins old red whiskers scalded off his fool
face. She ses she always thought Pete had
some sense, but now, she ses, she don’t know
whether he’s a bigger rascal than h e is a
fool.
Wimmin’s monstrous curious critters
now ’tween you and me, and it takes more
hed than I’ve got to manage ’em without
some diftikilties now and then. It seems to
me, Mary’s gittin cuiiouser every day. I
don’t know what upon yeath to make of her
sometimes, she acts so quar. Lord knows,
I does everything in my power to please
her—l gits her every thing she wants—l
alu ays lets her have her own way in every
thing, and 1 stays home with her more’n
half my time, hut every now and then she
takes a cry in spell, jest for nothin. Now,
I’ll jest tell you one little circumstance, jest
to let you see how curious she does do me
some times.
Two or three months ago little Sally
Rogers gin her one of the leetlest dogs I
reckon you ever did see. It’s a little white
curly thing bout as big as my fist, with little
red eyes and a little bushy tail screwed
rite up over its back so tite that it can’t
hardly touch its hind legs to the floor, and
when it harks it’s got a little sharp voice
that goes rite through a body’s hed like a
gimlet. Well, Mary and the galls is all the
time wasliin, and comin, and lixitt it off with
ribbons on its neck and tail, and nursin it itr
tlier laps til they’ve got the dratted thing so
sa6y that ther aint no gittin long with it.—
Whenever I go bout Mary it’s a snailin arid
srieppin at me, and when eny body comes
in the house, it flies at ’em like it was gwine
to tare ’em all to pieces, and makes more
racket than all the dogs on tlie place. It’s
bit my fingers two or three times, and if I
jest tetcli it, it’ll squall out like its back was
broke, duo run rite to the wimin and gits un
der ther chairs, and then the very old harry
’s to pay. If ever 1 say anything about it,
then they all say I’m “ jealous of poor little
Tip,” and that I ought to be ashamed of
myself to be mad at “ the dear little feller.”
Well, I always laugh it off’ the best way I
can, but I reckon I’ve wished some rat
would eatcli “ poor little Tip” morc’n a
thousand times, and I wouldn’t be surpri
sed if it was to he tuck suddenly sick and
die some of these days, tliout eny body
knowing the cause. But I jest want to tell
an instance of the devilmeut lie kicks up
some times.
Last nighs we was all settin in the parlor
—the galls was sow-in and Mary and me
was playin a game of drafts, and I was jest
about to pen her with three kings, when
one of tlie'checks happened to drop oft’ the
board rite dow nby Mary’s foot. 1 stooped
over to pick it up, when the fust thing I
knew snap the little devil of a dog tuck mo
rite by the finger, and then set up a terrible
baikin and run rite behind Mary’s foot. I
never wanted to hit nothin so bad in my life,
and I leaned over to tap him on the head,
hut Mary put her little foot out before him,
and I missed Tip’s nose about a inch, and
lie snapped agin. 1 leaned over further and
further, and tried to Lit him, but Mary’s foot
was always in the way every time, and the
last time when I was reachin je3t as fur as
1 could, and her foot was in the way, and
the little eus was squealin and snappin as
hard as he could, 1 got sort o’ out of pa
tience tryin to hit him, and ses I, “ Pont
put your foot in the way !” Jest then down
went the “ History of England” and all the
checks on the floor, and Tip run under Ma
ry’s chair, clear out of sight, squallin like lie
was killed, w hen ther wasn’t a hair of him
fetched. When Iris up my face was a lit
tle red, and I would gin a five dollar hill
jest to tramp that infernal dog out of his
hide. Well, what do you think ? the fust
thing I knovved Mary was cryin like her
heart was gwine to brake.
“ Why,” ses I, “ Mary, what’s the mat
ter with you 1 I didn’t touch Tip.”
She didn’t say nothing but jest went on
cryin worse and worse, and told Miss C'al
line to band her the colone water; and ther
she sot and cried and snuffed the colone and 1
sighed, and no body didn’t know what the;
matter was.
“ Why, Mary,” ses I, “ what upon ycath
ails you l I didn’t hurt you, did IV’
“ Y-e-s, you-00-did. 1-didn’t-thiivk-you
oo-would-speak-so-to-00-me-Joßepb. I did
n’t think you’d git mad at me, r so I didn’t,”
“ Why, lord bless your soul, I aint
mad at you Mary,” ses I, “ what makes you
think I could git mad at. you 1”
“ Cause I didn’t want you to hurt poor lit
tle Tip—poor little fellet he didn’t know no
better.”
” But, Mary, I wasn’t mad at you at all,”
ses I, “ what makes you think so 1”
“ Cause you never said don't so cross to
me before—you said it jest as cross as you
could.”
“But I wasn’t mad, honey—it was reach
in over so fur made mo speak sort o’ quick,”
ses I, “ I never was mad at you in my life.”
But in spite of all I could say or do I could
n’t git ber in a good humor the whole even-,
ing, jest cause 1 said “ don’t” to her when
Bhe kep puttin her foot in my way. It’s all
over now, but 1 dasn’t look sideways at Tip
for fear he’ll kick up another fuss. Its mon
strous curious; 1 know Mary loves me, and.