AMERICAN VOLUNTEER. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING DY Joliu B. Bratton. TIEBTdiS. §ob3oript«ss>’‘— l Onn Dollar and Fifty Cents, hald in advance s Two Dollarsil paid withintlio Soar rtnd TwO Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not odldVfithU tlio year. Those terms will bo rig-, idly ndhdred to in every instance. No sub scription discontinued until all arrearages are baid unless at the option of the Editor. T Advertisements— Accompanied by the cash, 4hii not exceeding ono square, will be inserted three times for Ono Dollar, and twenty-five cents lor each additional insertion. Thosoofagroat teir length in proportion. Job-Printing— -Such ns Hand-bills, Posting bills, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &c., &0., exe cuted with accuracy and at the shortest notice. |sotfiral. DARE TO STAND ALONE. Be firm, bo bald, bo strong, bo true, And dare to stand alone j Strive for the right, whato’br ytiu do, Though helpers there are,none. Nay, bend hot to the swelling surge, Of popular sneer and wrong; ’Twill bear thee on to ruin’s vdrgo With current wild and sttong. Stand for tlio tight 1 Humanity , Implores with groans and tears, Thine aid to break the festering links That bind her toiling years; Stand for tho right ! Though falsehood reign And proud lips coldly sneer, A poisoned arrow cannot wound : A conscience pure and clear. Stand .for the right!—and with clean hands . ■, Exjflt the'true on high j TholV'lt flnd wann sympathizing hearts Among the passers by. •' Mon who have seen, and thought, and felt— Yet could not Hardly dare ■- The battle’s brunt, but by thy side ■ Will ever dangers share; Stand (or tho right!—proclaim it loud, Thon’lt find an answering tone In honest hearts, and thou no more Be doomed to stand alone. TUE OLD COTTAGE CLOCK. * oh! tho old, old clock, of tho household stock, . Was the brightest tiding and the neatest; Its hands, though old, had the touch of gold, • - And its chimes rang still tho sweetest, ’Twns a monitor, too, though its words were few, Yet they lived, though nations altered; And its voice, still strong, warned old and young ’ When the voice of friendship (altered. << Tick, lick,” it said —“ quick, quick to bed, . For ten I’vo given warning; Up, up’and go, or else, you know, YouTI never rise soon in the morning!” A friendly voice was that old, old clock. As it stood in the corner smiling, - And blessed the time with a merry chime, The wintry hours beguiling 1 But a cross old voice was that tiresome clock, As it called at 'aybreak boldly, When the dawn looked grey o’er the misty way, Unless you’re up soon ,in The morning. Still hourly the sound goes round and round, With a tone that censes never; While ,tears are shod for tho bright days fled, And the old friends lost forever ! Its heart beats on—though hearts are gone That warmer beat and youngerj ■ ■ • Its hands still clasped, though hands wo love Are clasped on earth no longer j “ Tick, tick,-”.it said; “to the churchyard bed, The grave hath given warning; Up, up, arise, and look to tho skies. And prepare tor a heavenly morning Mistelliinmm. From the N. .Y. Evening Post. Matrimonial Brokerage in' the Metropolis. X GENTLEMAN FROM THE RDR AT, DISTRICTS IN A MATRIMONIAL OFFICE—HIS ABVEN- . • TORES WITH AN ACTRESS. In the fall of 1857 a young country mer chant, not altogether ignorant of the ways of the city, and by no means averse to adventures, came hero to get his semi-annual supply of dry goods. Having made his purchases, and being in no especial.haste to return, he deter mined to visit a matrimonial office, the adver tisement .of which he had seen, and which struck him as exceedingly curious. He repaired to the place indicated in the pa per, paid the usual fine of 35, and made the fol lowing entry: “John Quincy Jenkins,a dry goods merchant, ol Memphis, Tennessee, 28 years of 'age, 5 feet 9 inches high', black eyes.and hair, mid domes tic tasles, desires to form the acquaintance of a lady, 22 to 25 years of age, with a view to mat rimony. She must be of affectionate disposi tion, accomplished, intelligent and handsome. None others need apply. Money is no object, the advertiser having a lucrative business.” The merchant was 'assured by the broker that she had just such a person upon her list at that moment; and that if ho would call at 5 o’clock that afternoon, ho should see her. The adventurous Jenkins, being of a some what suspicious disposition, feared foul play ; and, when the appointed hour arrived, went to the matrimonial office with a six-shooter,, well loaded, in his pocket, more than half expect ing to defend himself against robbers and as sassins: r ' But the enemy he encountered was not of this kind. He was introduced to a young wo man with black eyes and hair, pearly teeth, delicate hands, fine form, and intelligent and rather handsome face. Her dress was appro priate, and her manner modest. Be it known that the adventurous Jenkins had anticipated nothing of the sort. Ho had supposed thftt if the landlady, introduced him at all, which ho considered doubtful, it would bo to some frightful hag, who would.drivo him from the house in disgust: Ho, was, therefore, a good deal taken aback. and though a man of sufficient “ audneia ,” much cirtbafassed. * He rallied, however, and was soon chatting with the fair stranger as with an old acquaint ance. Her wit and intelligence surprised and pleased him. He had no more idea of marry ing than Brigham Young has of living single, and began' to wish, from the bottom of bis heart, that ho was out of the affair. The twain talked on till Jenkins became aware that ho was expected to broach the main subject—-but how to do it was a problem. He resolved, however, to tgll her frankly that he was there merely from curiosity. Ho opened, in this way: “Mrs. : (naming the broker) keeps a matrimonial office, it seems. It is a novel idea; and her advertisement made me very curious.” The unknown beauty blushed charmingly. The glow which overspread her cheeks was, in deed, “a hit.” But it lasted only a moment. She replied: ;“Yes; I sen no harm in it.'- I would not have my. uncle know I am hero for anything in . the world; he could never understand it. I I have plenty of acquaintances, but little sympai K. thy. lam well aware what the conventional!- pities of the world require: lam also aware that ',: a woman’s happiness isoften sacrificed to them. I have resolved to this extent to break through them, and never to marry until I love.” “Love, surely,” replied the half- captivated and philosophic Jenkins, “is the essential cle ment of happiness, and I fancy that marriage without It would be an intolerable burden. VI came here,” responded mademoiselle, . “not because lam ignorant of what belongs to modest woman, but because I believe there is nothing wrong or immodest in doing so; and Jk•in ericau SI? Joittf B. BRATTON. YOL. 45. thinking that. I might meet with what has thus far in life been denied me—the sympathy and friendship of some one who understands me.” “And I come here,” vigorously’: responded Jenkins, perceiving a good chance to say what he wanted to, “I came here simply from curi osity. It is always best to bo frank and truth ful ; I had no intention of marrying, but seeing so novel an advertisement in the paper,l wished to know its meaning.” . , Jenkins is of opinion that when he uttered this speech a careful observer might have seen the slightest shade of disappointment becloud the features of the fair stranger; but if so, it passed quickly. , • • ■ After a few minutes’ conversation, Jenkins arose to depart.. He expressed gratification at having seen her, and said that as he had a' few days to spend in the city, ho would, if he might presume Id do so, beg the honor of calling upon her. “Tell.me, sir,” replied the enchanting dam sel “tell mo if you can respect me just ns much as though you had met’ me at Saratoga or Newport, and sought an introduction?” “It matters little where we .find a jewel we prize,”, was the noble reply 'of the gallant Jen kins. . “If by that you mean to answer mo in the affirmative,” waf'-tho reply, “I shall be happy to have -you-call .upon me, to-morrow evening at my uncle’s, No.—l4th At.” . Jenkins'-went away looking, like Ferdinand; —“in a moved sort, ' As if he were dismayed.” His soliloquy was somewhat alter this fashion: “I was a fool for going there! "If the girl is honest, and has taken a fancy to me, she will bo disappointed. She seems honest and mod est, though I can't understand how a realty modest woman could go to such a place: still, she.might, perhaps. I did as much ns tell her I thought it was not immodest when I askefi lo call upon her. I don’t think I ought to have done so ; lam sure it was wrong,. I won’t go —that's the cheapest way to get out of it. Yes, I will go!” . • Jenkins was swayed by conflicting emotions for something more than- twenty-four- hours-—> sometimes firmly resolving not to call, and again as determined lo go. ’Finally, when the time came, he started without hesitation. He found Della' (so she called herself) in a very respectable house, richly furnished. He was introduced to tho “uncle” as an old ac quaintance whom she had met at. a watering place. The evening jjassed very pleasantly— so pleasantly, indeed, that Jenkins, without thinking precisely what ho was about, prom ised to call again, which he did' two evenings later. • This lime ho found. Della alone, and after another very pleasant chat, arose to take his leave, remarking, that he should remain in town but three.days longer, and asked if he riiighl call again. He now observed that his new friend appear ed much cmbarassed. She did not answer d|- reolly, and Jenkins walked to the .door. She followed with hesitating steps, but finally seized hint frantically by the hand, and drawing him back, stammered rather than spoke as follows : “You— ask if you shall call again. It will give me pleasure lo have you do so— that is—sir—l—have—something—to—say. You will excuse me—but I know you are gene rous, and can appreciate my position”—[a pro found sigh, and Della, staggering to (he piano, placed her head in her hands and wept", j .’ “Madam,” said Jenkins, “I trust I can ap preciate what you wish to say ; and if I can be of service to you in any way, you have only lo show me how.” She restrained her tears, and proceeded: “1 will be frank with you, sir—that is— [siglis and tears ]—l will try to tell you—will you forgive me if it is wrong ?” “Certainly—it cannot be wrong,” Jepkins answered, considerably excited by The unex pected scene. Tell me frankly; I assure you it will give me pleasure to serve you.” . “Yes—but—oh dear! [ano;her fit of weep ing]—but—it is so—strange!” “What is it, Delia ?” said Jenkins,.for the first time calling her by her Chrisiian name. “You will be as frank as lam, will you not?” - “Yes.”’ “Well, then—whether you come again or not 'depends upon yourself.”, •‘•Then-1 shallceftainlycome.” “I fear not.” “Pray explain.” [Sighs and tears.] “Be calm.” “Well, then, I will try to be calm enough. I —like —you —Very —much,—and feel —towards —you as—l never did towards another. I that is—l am sure I shall, if you continue to come here— love yoii. If you do not (eel so to wards me, I must ask you pot to come again.” This last speech was interlarded with an in finite number of sighs, and appearances of fainting ; and no sooner was it concluded than she fell fainting before the bewildered Jenkins. Of course there was no alternative, and he caught her in his arms, and made various fran tic attempts to restore her, and as he thus per formed his kindly offices, in came the uncle,-of a sudden, followed by a young man ho had not before seen. ■ ■ ' Those who have read the adventures of the renowned Mr. Pickwick, will never forget the memorable occasion on which his friends enter ed his lodgings, and found Mrs. Bardell fainting and screaming in his arms; and they have only, to revert that picture to have an exact portrait of the case of Mr. Jenkiljs. The uncle summon ed the’Servant girl, who, for some' unaccounta ble rekson, was very .near at hand ; and she, 100 saw Della in the arms of the petrified Jen k(ps. In due time their united efforts restored her, and the uncle demanded of her an explanation. But she could not or would make any, and he, of course, turned upon Jenkins. The adventu rous merchant told him that his niece was seized with a fainting fit as he stood by the door about to depart, and . that ho, of course, caught her to prevent her falling at the moment he came in. Ho seemed dissatisfied and sus picious. Jenkins told him his niece would ex plain all when sufficiently restored, and bade him good night. It chanced that Mr. Jenkins had an intimate acquaintance living at the hotel where he stop ped ; and, ns he rushed out of the house in a condition bordering on frenzy, he encountered this identical friend. It was a moonlight eve ning, and the lawyer immediately recognized him as ho descended to the street. As he did so, he very deliberately walked up the stops and examined the number, more oareiully than Mr. Farrell did 31 Bond street, on that memorable ocoasion-whon htKgat down to tie a shoe-string, and returning to the walk, said to Jenkins: “What the devil has brought you here 1” “I don’t know.! —fate, I suppose—or being a cursed fool 1” was the the excited reply. The lawyer took Jenkins’ arm, and demanded a confidential communication. He, with some hesitation, gave a history of the case from first to last. » “You gave a fictitious name and residence!” inquired the lawyer eagerly, when Jenkins had finished. “Yes,” “And did you tell the fair enchantress where you were stopping?” “No. I told her ! -was at the Metropolitan." “Lucky ! lucky 1” said he.. “Why lucky?” ■ ■ ■ “Let me tell you. " I know a thing or two of that precious uncle and his virtuous niece. Did she faint well ?” said ho, laughing! “Yes.”’ : “Admirably, I will wager. She sighed well, blushed well, wept well, fainted well ?” “Yes.” “Of course she did. She was once an ac tress. She might have been a- good one—a famous one, I think—but that she had so many lovers and amours. She ran off with a south ern actor, fived with him a year or so, went to a watering place, met the man of the house there, ran away from the actor with him, and called him her uncle. He is.much her uncle ns 1 aßfcrno more.” "Well?” “Well, (here are a great’ many things done in New York which don't square with the golden rule—lawyers know that; You know something of us hero, but you know little of the wicked ways of this wicked city. - The house you have just left is a. trap, and but for your precaution in concealing your name and hotel, you would have been caught. ..You would have been, ns it is, probably, had I not found this out; for they would search every hotel in the city, but they would find you. Your safely is in flight. You must retreat in the morning, or my word for it you will be sued for breach of. promise of marriage in less than three days. That scene was alt arranged. They will make out a case,against you. In the first place, there is the matrimonial office ; the keeper will swear lo.tho facts of the acquaint ance. It was formed avowedly in view of ma trimony ; there is your writing in the register, all of which shows the animus. In tho second place, the repeated calls. They can prove two and insinuate more. The. matrimonial agent will not remember the date of your entry oh her books—the people will not remember the dale of your first visit. They wid say it might have been four weeks that you werein the habit of catling, though they cannot swear positive ly. In the third place, there, were three eye witnesses of the fainting scene, besides the girl herself, and I have no doubt the young man is a bona fide jvitnesa, invited there without any knowledge of the conspiracy. Could a lawyer ask a better case with which to go before a ju ry?”.- . , . ■ ' “But are you sure there is a conspiracy ?” “I know it; that is lam morally certain of it.” . • - ; ‘‘Have they served up any such cases to you before?” “Yes. , I have seen the papers for four simi lar cases, and rather than sutler the exposure, trouble and expense, the parties settled. One man. gave $l,OOO, another $3,000, and another $4,000 ; which, I have no doubt, was divided up between the girl, the uncle, the servant girl, and perhaps the matrimonial office.” ”, “Add the lawyer,” Jenkins suggested. “Well, the lawyer had his fee, of course, but I do not know as ho was parliceps crimiriistP JenkinMiid not; argue the morality of the lawyer’s (pllrt, but .re.qiicstcd.-hiin to 'let-him know if anything occurred, which ho promised to do. ' . T/io next morning John Quincy Jenkins left for his home in the rural districts, two or three days sooner than ho intended. In less than a week ho received a letter from his legal friend, in which ho was informed that tho next day after, his last visit to Della, a lawyer was ap plied to* as ho expected, to make oiit a case and commence proceedings against John Quincy Jenkins, for breach of promised of marriage, unless it was settled. At the uncle’s sugges tion, tho lawyer went with him to the Metro politan Hotel/lo flhd Mr. Jenkins, and sec if ho would not compromise; not findingjhat worthy gentleman, .the old man. instituted a, search in all tho prominent hotels, and finding no such name on the books, concluded that Mr. JenkTns was a myth, consigning the individual who boro the name to curses and history; - Running the Oannllet, When he was stripped of his coat and shirt and placed at the entry of the' terrible street through which he had to pass he became pale again. Two soldiers went ahead of him : they marched backward, with their bayonets presen ted to his breast, so. ns to force him to keep measure to a.drum which brought up the rear. The drum was muffled ; its slow and. dismal beats sounded like the music of a funeral pro cession. When he received the first stroke his features assumed an expression of pain and his firm set lips quivered slightly. This was, how ever, the only sign of sensation. Crossing his arms over his breast, and pressing his teeth to geiber, his proud face remained henceforth im movable. ’ His merciless enemies enjoyed but an incomplete triumph after all; they might slash his body in pieces, but his proud and in domitable spirit they could not break. The blows descended with a fearful violence upon him. After the first dozen blood came; but never did Ijo utter one single exclamation of pain; never —not even with a look—did he implore for mercy. An expression of scorn and disdain was deeply set on his'face, as pale as death. When ho had reacted at last the left wing of the company his lacerated back presented a frightful appearance. Even his most exasperated enemies might well have been satisfied now: if it had but been possible", the commanding officer himself would have inter ceedcd in his behalf; but this was not to be thought of; the law must Tiavc its course. — They faced him right about; he had to make the same way back again. There was one formality connected with this punishment which was n cruel,' barbarous, and shameful mockery ; the delinquent had to thank his exe cutioners for bis tortures. When the victim had arrived at.the file leader at the right wing of his company, and the dreadful execution was over at last, he threw one last, long Iqok, full of contempt, at, his tormentors, then he was seen staggering like a drunken man towards the commanding officer. His eyes swollen with blood, beamed with an unnatural bright ness, his respiration was short and painful; touching his head with his right hand, in to ken of. the military salute, ho saic| with a voice that came out of his throat with a rattling sound, but that was nevertheless distinctly au dible nil over the place, “ I have to—thank your Honor for this exquisite punishment,” and fell down dead. Dickens' Household Words, Minnesota Exemption Law.—The Legisla ture of Minnesota has passed a law exempting a homestead of eighty acres from levy for debts incurred. It also exempts 3500 worth of fur niture, 3300 worth of stock and utensils, 3400 worth of tools, the library of a professional man, and provisions enough -to support the family for one year. The Heir to the French Throne a Pilot on Lake Winnebago.— ; The Green Bay Advo cate says that the only son of tho late Rev. E. Williams, and, of course, the next heir to tho throne of France, is now engaged as a pilot on one of the lake Winnnebago steamers. Ho is a fine looking young man, bears a striking re semblance to his father, but is too modest, wo think, to urge his claims. • “ Quit COUNTRY —MAT IT ALWAYS 8S RIGHT—BUT RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 1858. In the year 1852, said to us yesterday a dis tinguished legal gentleman of New Orleans, I visited Paris.in the course of a European tour, that m'y Americanism might bo polished down by a little Ifttritidn among the genteel particles of Parisian society]; I found the world.of Par is in a very considerable state of excitement in consequence of an extraordinary, performance which was nightly . exhibited-by an Eastern jugler, and which ;was nothing more nor less than the apparent decapitation of a man in the presence of an audience? and under the very no ses of a committee'of medical gentlemen, who stood only so far ni, tant while the operation was being performed as to escape the awing of the long, two-edged sword with which the jug ler smote off the betid. I went to see .this exhibition, which took place in the theatre, in company with several American gentleined. ; The theatre was crow ded with between ttvo and three thousand spec tators, and the ciNtain was up, displaying a common tabic sixjfeet.long, upon the stage, at the very edge of which I obtained a scat, hav ing gone very earlyt At a given timb the jugler, a singular looking man, came upon tho stage with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the shoulders, atid bearing a long, heavy, two-edged §wqrd. He upset the table upon the boards, arid showed that there was no concealed drawer Or other recess, and placed it in the blaze of the footlights near the edge of the stage. .In a few words he stated what he was going'to do, aitjl requested some of the au dience to come forward and stand upon the stage, that they might see that there was no deception. A number of medical gentlemen who had been chosen as a committee to investi gate the matter, if possible, took their position upon the stagei and soon after the victim, who had been sitting in the parquette, mounted the stage, removed his. coat and cravat, turned back his shirt collar, and laying down upon his back on the table, elevated his chin to more fairly expose bis neck to the headman’s weap on. The jugler then raised his keen and fear ful looking sword, and, giving it a wide sweep, brought it down—Esay brought it down upon the neck, for no one could see that he did not, even those within three feet of him—upon, the ricok of the subject with great force ! Blood spurted, high in . the air, some of it falling oh our own parly, and deluged the stage, while the most fearful’ sound, something between a groan and a shriek of horror from the whole assemblage, shook the building, and numerous women hhdno.he males fell fainting ip their seals, and were borne out by the ush ers of the house. The juggler raised his sword again, repeated the .blow, and the dissevered head fell upon the,floor! Taking it by the hair he held it up to the audience for full live minutes, until the--b!bod had ceased to flow from the severed arteries, tho_ lower jaw had falen, and the face had assumectlho appearance of a corpse’s then tie-owing it heavily upon the stage, hq requested the committee to exam ine it, which they did passing it from hand to hand. They then cxtfmincd..thq.body,_qpon the table;, from, tile" fie.-ripcsS neck of whiclf the blood had riot yet ceased to drop upon the floor of the stage; they lifted the limbs and let them fall with the limb inertia of lifeless matter, and, of course, pronounced the man dead to all in tents ahd purposes, After they had concluded their investigation, the juggler informed the audience that ho was going to put the man’s head on again, and re store him to life. Taking up the head belaid it on the table, began to mutter and make signs over the corpse. In about five minutes the lately decapitated man slowly turned his ghastly and altogether horrible face —white as snow—towards the audience, and an excitement followed exceeding, if anything, that which oc curred when the first blow of the sword fell.— In a few moments the eyelids gradually opened, and displayed ’the eyes wearing a glassy, corpse-like stare ; by degrees a life-like specu lation came into them,-some color returned to the face; and,’after stretching his limbs, the man arose from the tabic, resumed his coat, and walked down from the stage and mingled with the crowd. The exhibition was over. This neck of the apparently decapitated man boro a red mark and scar around it, like the cicatrice of a newly healed wound. All this I saw with my own eyes, which were as effectually deceived as those of tens of thousands of other persons. I could in no way, consistently with reason, account for any feature of this horribly thrilling feat of trickery. I have never heard of the trick being performed by any other man, and very possibly it originated and died with him. 'However, it is scarcely more unaccountable than many of ten displayed feats of the. adroit fraternity’ ol eastern jugglers;— N. 0. True Delta. He never granted a richer boon than health, and without it, all other blessings are comparatively valueless.: Tot it is often lightly esteemed and carelessly thrown away, and never fully appreciated until it is gone. I have seen the mistress of a splendid mansion, surrounded by every luxury which wealth could command, lying upon ber'couch, pale and mis erable, fretful and unhappy. Within her reach were the most delicate viands and exquisite fruits, yet she could partake of none. Health was no longer hers. She had parted with it for the sake of gratffying = lfer vanity, by wearing thin shoos, to display (he beauty of her foot,. and now, when consumption was preying upon her, she repented her folly, but it was too late ; and though she would willingly give all that she possessed, the priceless treasure could not bo recalled. , Tho thin ghastly-looking gentleman, who re clines in the luxurious easy chair, with bisgouty foot upon a pillow, sighs and groans in anguish, and thinks ot the many weary nights of pain, when tho bed of down and tho silken covering could bring him no repose. How ho envies tho plow-boy who whistles on tho greon Holds, whoso step is elastic, and whoso heart' is light and gay at his toil, while his sleep is sound and refreshing. What is wealth to tho invalid but d bitter mockery which can yield no happiness 7 Then prize tho rich boon of health, ye who'posscss it and’ lift your hearts in gratitude to God, oven though your lot bo ono of poverty and toil* Tin; Ancient Mines op Mexico.—Tho San Antonio (Texas) Ternm says: Travellers • be tween here and El Paso informs us that thero are almost literally mountains of iron in some places ; and by building fires beside the rocks, the pure ore will melt and run down into pud dles. In .many places there are silver. mines that there were deserted years ago by the Span iards, and large boulders rolled into the shaft — intending, of course, to return when, they could be protected from the Indians; but these mines have never since been opened. Newspaper SnnsOßinEns, —Ono of our co temporaries classifies his subscribers under five different heads—those who pay in advance— those who pay when their bills are presented— those who pay after some dunning—those who pay if they have tho money—and those who have conscientious scruples against paying at all. The last class, unfortunately, is a largo ono, and its members are scattered all over tho country. What an ill-used man that printer is. A Diabolical Exhibition. A jian’s head out off. IMuutffr. Terrific Adventure in the Mammoth Gave. At the supposed end of what has always been considered the longest avenue of the Mam moth Cave, nine miles from its entrance, there is a pit, dark and deep and terrible, known as the Mtalslrom. Tens of thousands have gazed into it with awe, whilst Bengal lights were thrown down it to make its depths visible, but, none ever had the daring to explore it. The celebrated guide Stephen; who was deemed in sensible to fear, was offered six hundred dollars by the proprietors of’the cave if ho would de scend to the bottom of itbut he shrank from the peril. A few years ago a Tennessee pro fessor, a learned and bold man, resolved to do what no one before him had dared to do, and. making his arrangemenls wilh great care and precaution, he had himself lowered down by a strong rope a hundred feet, but at that poinr his courage failed him, and he called aloud to be drawn out. No human power could ever have induced him to repeat the appalling ex periment. A couple of -weeks, ago, however, a young gentleman of Louisville, whose nerves never trembled at mortal peril, being at thc Mammoih Cave with Professor Wright, of our city, and others; determined, no matter what, the dan gers and difficulties might be, to explore, the depths of the Maelstrom. Mr. Proctor, the en terprising proprietor of the Cave, sent 16 Nash ville and procured a long rope of gfeat strength expressly for the purpose. The rope and some necessary timbers were borne by the guides and others to the point-of proposed exploration.— The arrangements being soon completed, the rope, With a heavy fragment of rock affixed to it, was let down and swung to and fro to dis r lodge any loose rocks that would be likely to fall at the touch. Several were thus dislodged, and'the long continued reverberations, rising up like distant thunder from bcloW, proclaimed the depth of the. horrid, chasm. Then :tho young hero of the occasion, with several hats drawn over his head to protect it, as far ns pos sible, against any masses falling from above, and with a light in his hand, and the rope fas tened around his body, took his place over the awful pit, and directed the half dozen men, who hold the end of the rope, to let him down into’ the Cimmerian gloom. . We have heard from his own lips an account ( of his descent! Occasionally. masses of earth and rock Went whizzing past, but none struck him. Thirty or forty feet from the lop, ho saw l * ledge, from • which, as he judged by ap pearances', two or three avenues led offin differ ent directions. About -a hundred feet from . top, a cataract from the side of the pit went rushing down the abyss, and as he descended by the side of. the falling water and in the midst of the spray, he felt some appreh'-nsion that his light would boi extinguished : but his care prevented this. Ho.was landed atthe bot tom of the pit, a hundred and ninety feet from the lop. He found it almost -perfectly circu lar, abdut 18 feet in diameter, with a small opening at one point; leading to a line chamber 6f no great extent. He found on the floor beau tiful specimens of black silex, of immense size, vastly larger than were ever discovered in any other part of the Mammoth Cave, and also a multitude of. exquisite formations, as pure 'and white as virgin snow. Making himself heard, with great effort, by his friends, he at length asked them to pull him partly up, intending to stop on the way and explore a cave that he had observed opening abont forty feet above the bottom of the pit. Reaching the mouth of that cave, ho swung himself, with much exertion in to it, and, holding the end of the ropo in his hand, he incautiously let it go, and it swung out, apparently, beyond his reach. The situation was a fearful one, and his friends above could do nothing for him. Soon, however, he made a hook of the end of his' lamp, and, by extending himself as far over the verge as possible, without falling, ho suc ceeded in securing the rope. Fastening it to a rock, he followed the avenue one hundred and fifty or two hundred yards to a point where he found it blocked by an impassable avalanche of rock and earth. Rcturning-Uo . the mouth of this ayemje, he beheld an almost exactly simi lar mouth of another on the opposite side of the pit, but, not being able to swing himself into it, he refastened the rope around his body, sus pended himself again over the abyss, and shou - ted to bis friends to raise him to the top, The pull was an exceedingly severe one, and the rope, being .ill adjusted around his body, gave him the mast excruciating pain. Gut soon his pain was forgotten in a new and dread ful.peril. When he was ninety feet Irom the mouth of the pit, and 100 from the bottom, swaying and swinging in mid air, ho heard . rapid and excited words of horror and alarm above, and soon learned that the rope by which ho was uphold had taken fire from the friction of the timber over, which it pnssced. Several moments of awful suspense to those above, and still more awful to him below, ensued. 'To them and him a fatal and instant catastrophe seemed inevitable. But the fire was extin guished with a bottle of water belonging to himself, and the party above, though almost exhausted by their labors, succeeded in draw ing him to the top.. He was as calm and self possessed as-upon his entrance into the pit, but all of his companions, overcome by fatigue, sank down upon the ground, and his friend Professor Wright, from over exertion and ex citement fainted, and remained for: a time in sensible. . The young adventurer left his name carved Til the depths of the Maelstrom—the name of the first and only person that ever gazed upon its Mysteries. —Louisville Journal. Eccentricities op Authors. —Tho Boston Transcript mentions so'hio interesting cecontri cities of authors. Goethe, with all his love of art and passion for beauty, wrote in an undeco rated, room, on a plain table, with; few books, and no pictures or scenery in view. Richard Savage noted down a whole tragedy on scraps of paper at tho counters of shops, into which ho entered and asked for pen and ink, ns if to make a memorandum. Jonathan Edwards meditated his profound work on 11 Tho Will” ns lie walked in the shade of, an elm, still standing at North ampton. Burns wove a stanza as bo ploughed tho fields. Dr. Johnson delved at his diction ary in a poor lodging in London, with a cat purring near, and orange pen! and tea at hand. Moliero tested tho comic power of his plays by reading them to an old servant. Dr. Wm. E. Ohanning used to perambulate tho room while composing. 'Bloomfield, the poet, relates of himself that nearly one-half of his poem, <-Tho Farmer’s Boy,” was composed without writing a word of it, while ho was at work with. other shoemakers in a garret. Daniel Webster’s elo quent oration on Banker Hill was in a great part, composed in a boat in Marshpoo Brook. Death op a Centenarian.—Mrs. Ludwick Snyder, of Burnside township', Clearfield coun ty, Pa., died at the advanced age of one hun dred and eight years last week. Her husband, who survives her, has reached tho ripe age of one hundred and twelve years. More than was Wanted.—Wm. A. Carr, of Kentucky, who got a wife last year by ad vertising in the Now York Times, and was uni versally laughed at, is how sued by one of the fair respondents to his advertisement, Mrs. Pauline W. Carroll, a Boston widow,for breach of promise. AT $2,00 PER ANNUM. Cireiuisiatitcs Alter Cases. Gen. Barnes was not possessed of .supfcrioF legal attainments, yet, as a lawyer; he had the happy faculty of impressing his clients that justice and law were with them in all cases. — We have a handsome illustration of this talent in a letter from a friend. A rough countryman walked into the office of Gen. Barnes on one day and began his appli cation. Gen. Barnes, I have come to got your ad vice in a case that is giving mo some trouble.” “ What is the matter ?” “Suppose now,” said the client,.' 11 that a man had one spring of water on his land, and his neighbor living below him was to build a dam across a creek running through both their (arms, and it was to back the water up into the other man’s spring, what ought to be done?” ' - “ Sue him, sir. Sue him by all means,” said the General* who always excited in proportion to the aggravation of his clients. “You can recover heavy damages, sir, and the law will make him pay well for it. Just give .me the case, ahd I'll'bring the money from him : and if he ha’sen't a great, deal of property it will break him up, sir.” " But stop. General!" cried the terrified ap plicant for legal advice, “ it’s me that built the dam, and its neighbor Jones that owns the spring, and he lms threatened to sue mo.” The keen lawyer hesitated a moment before he tacked his ship, and kept on : “ Ah! well, sir, you say you built a dam .across the creek; what sort of a dam was that, sir?” “ It was a mill-dam.” ■ “ A mill-dam for grinding grain, was it ?” asked thtfGeneral.. , “ Yes, it was just that ?” “ And its a good neighborhood mill, is it not: a public convenience?” “So it is', sir, and yon may. well sayso.” . “ Do your neighbor’s like it ?” “ Yes, sir: all but Jours.” “ Then it is a groat public convenience is it not, sir ?” “To be sure ft is. I would not have had it built but for that. It’s so tar to any other mill,, sir.” ■ “And now;” said the old lawyer, you tell me that that man Jones is complaining just be. cause-the water froni your dam happens to pul back into his little spring, and he is,threaten ing to sueyou. -Well, all I have to say is, lei him sue* and he’ll rue the day he ever though! of it, as sure as my name is Barnes.”: ; How to Preserve Grapes. A gentleman, who has tried the experiment successfully, gives the following directions for preserving grapes for winter use:. 1 “ When they aro-fully ripe, suspend the bas ket by a strap dr cord passed around the neck,' thereby giving liberty to both hands for pick ing ; with one hand hold .the cluster, and with the other remove it from the vino : remove from the clusters all unripe and-decayed fruit, and deposit them in the basket until it is filled. I use it market basket that will hold about a half bushel. Carry the grapes thus .galheftd to the placa.fdr packing,. I use boxes about two feel sqaafe by six inches deep in the clear, with covers made to flf tight. In packing, lay a newspaper on the bottom of the box. then a layer of grapes, then a paper and second layer of grapes, which, when closely packed, fi Is the box : set in s .me dry. airy place, with :the cov er oil’, and let the box remain open for ten days, or.until theswealing processes past; then close the box, and set them in the fruit room, cellar or garret, any place where they will not freeze, or which is not extremely: damp. “ Grapes packed as above directed, wilt opt’ri at any lime during the winter or spring follow ing, ns fresh as when packed. The only secret or mystery is, that the moisture which spoils the fruit when packed, in sawdust and other absorbents, passes off during the ten days that the box remains open, instead of being absorb ed. and ultimately moulding and spoilipg them. So perfect has been my success, that I have more confidence in the preservation of the grape than any other fruit. I use shallow boxes for packing grapes, that the moisture may more readily escape, and. that the first layer'.in the bottom may not he crushed by the, weight above.” last Inictvieir between Colonel Benton anil President Buchanan. Certain politicians and parlizan prints have endeavored to create tlio impression that Col. Benton, before his dcaih, strongly, denounced President Buchanan. Unfortunately for these, hyenas, who believed that the grave concealed their falsehood, as well as its victim, Mis. Ja cob, one of the daughters of Col. Benton, who was present at the interview between him and the President, has made the following state ment, which completely refutes the story. She says: ' ‘.‘lie took the President’s hand in his and said, in clear tones, ‘Buchanan, we are friends ; we have differed on many points, as you well know, but I always trusted in your integrity of purpose. I supported you in preference to Fremont, because he headed a sectional party, whose success would have been the signal of disunion; I have known you long, and I knew you would honestly endeavor to do right. I have that faith In you now, but you must look to a higher power *lo support and guide you. AVc wifi soon meet in another world : lam go ing now—you .will soon follow. My peace with God is made, my earthly affairs arranged: But I could not go without seeing and thank ing you for your interest in my child.’ Much more was said that is too sacred to repeat, Col. Benton war much exhausted, and Mr. Buchan an frequently urged him to spare himself. Mr. Buchanan remarked to the membersof the fnm- ily that nothing had ever given him greater pleasure. When Mrs. Jacob returned to her father's room, ho called her to him and, said; ‘My child, you are a witness of what has passed this evening ; think of it and remember it. I am glad Buchanan came ; all is peace with mo, and I can rest. " So ends that vile fabrication. * The Proposas. —-Miss M., a,young heiress, ol* considerable personal attractions, chanced to bo seated at a dinner party next to a gentleman re. markable in the fashionable circles for the bril,. liahey ol his wit, and who had long boon one in the train of her admirers. The conversation turned upon the uncertainty ol life. “I moan to insure mine,” said the young .lady, archly, «in the Hope.” “ In the hope of what 7” said her admirer; “a single life is hardly worth insuring; X propose wo should Insure our lives together; and, if you have no objection, I should prefer the Alliance.” A black servant being examined in the Church Catechism, by the minislcr of the Par ish, was asked. “ What are you made of 7 Ca to answered, ‘Of mud, Massa.' On being told he should say dust, ho replied, *No massa, it no do—no stick togedder.’ , [C?”Tho world is a treadmill, which turns all the time, and leaves no choice but to sink or Climb. the Richmond Sdtilh bf Saturday gives the following account of a duel between Mr. O. J. Wise and lion. Shcrrard Clemens: • - “About sunrise yesterday morning, a.duel was fought in a retired spot, just beybnd Fair-j field Race Course, between Mr. O. Jennings Wise, one of the editors of the Richmond JEn quirer, and the Hon. Shcrrard Clemens, Rcprb sentalive in Congress from the Wheeling,Dis trict,in'this State. Tha weapons used wcrlß duelling pistols, and the distance ten paces, olr less than thirty feet. Three shots were ex changed without died. At the fourth, the bail from Mr. Wise’s pistol struck Mr. demons jii 1 the right thigh, a little below the hip, and passed through, causing a serious fracture of the bone. Mr. Wise was uninjured. The par ties then returned to the city, and Mr. Clemens • was convoyed to.his hotel, where ha now lies under surgical treatment, J’lte wound, wc un derstand; has as yet caused him but little suf fering; or rather, he has thus far evinced the utmost fortitude, maintaining the composure which he is said to have exhibited on the' field. The difficulty grew out.of certain strictures irt the Enquirer on Mr. O.’s course in connection with the claiihs of Mr. Letcher and Judge , Brockcubrouih to the governorship.” NO. 1.6. “Self-Made Men’’ Against'Educated Men. 1 ho following from the Philadelphia. School Journal, contains.tome just"observations, and some that, uro more sweeping than. just. Our readers will readily separate tho true from thd false: “Wo know an old gentleman who has fought the battle ol life industriously, and whoso declining years are now passing in tho enjoy ment of tho spoils of a successful campaign. While conversing with him some limb ago. bo remarked that ho had “come to tho conclusion, that college education was a waste of time.” He assured hs that the best min ho knew wore “self-made” men, wife started both poor and uneducated. He pointed out many of them and told us bf their fortunes. Ho also spoko of others, who began with money and educa tion, and who had become drunkards, idlers, and oven scoundrels. Ho remarked, also, that many young men, after having gone through college, “got high notions info thoir heads,’’and never did anything, because they thought them selves too good to work. According to his belief, tho best way tomaho a useful man of a boy was to send him to school until ho could read and write, and then put him into a store, and let him work himself up to a partnership. He thought- it nsolots and wrong to “waste time in learning. things’.that would never come to any goodI” : . . - These ho regarded as conclusive arguments against college education. Wo took pains to see the men whom hb designated as the, oesi men ho knew,’and found that money was their only excellence. They wore all men of more than ordinary natural intelligence. They had all bepn slaves to inoncy-makiug, and had pass ed a selfish, stingy hie, in amassing fortunes which they were now too old to pt