. _ . . . : . , i 4. - - -' ''' .." . ' P ., . • • - .... ..- , . . H . :::,:: , 7 . , _ ; ._ 2 ...... . _ :.,, ~. ... i E . ~, ...,._ ._, ~,. ________..,„...._ ,_. ? . ::,, _,. _ : .... k . 4 JJI - 11 M. p . 1. - , .. _it . . , r- . . SAMUEL thierropriefoi VOLUME XXX, NUMBER 36.]• PUSBLIRED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING Office in Carpet Hall,. North-west corner of Front and Locust , streets*. , 'refits „ ubscription, ad a C opy per tinny m f paidin advance. • • ” if hot paid withinihree monthefromeommencementolthe year. 300 Cants Clcsi,:ryr ititiscripiloto received fora 1c... time than wiz !toutig; and uo paper will lie di-continued arrea.ragerarepaid,udlhin.ai the opti6noi the pub i.hefl. • .. 11.7 . 1Ioneyinay e•cmitted hymn(' hepubli.h er's Rates of Advertising. I squat. [Gi tueo]one week toioe ' each .unsequenblinertion. 10 (12 istenja:rikyrork 50 three week!. 1 00 t t.eriion 25 totrgertdverti.ement•r o proportion them! I i.,011111 I wiloo. mode to goorterly.holi eariy or. , ..tilyolvortiserv.who are Ftriet l!confined o their burine•s OR.- HOFFER, DENTIST.---OFFICE, Front Street 4th door tram Locust. over ?..nylor ec Sic Donald's monk store bolombi... Pa 1:17 - Butrance r between the Book and Dr. Herr's Drug store. [August tit, 1135 e THOMAS WELSH, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE, Columbia, Pa, OFFII 18, in Whipper's New Building, below Black's Hotel. Front street. le lp:Prompt attention given to all business clausal] November 1857. ' H. M. NORTH, A TTORNEY ND COUNEtIII, IP Columb, n. Pa. 'Collections , . I. romptly made.' n Lancasterand Von Munn., Columbia, Aray 4, ISM). ,_,. DR. G. W. MIFFLIN, DENTIST, Locust street, a few doors above Ball. Columbia. I'a. Columbia May J. 11456 J. W. FISHER, Altarugyand Counsellor at Law, . tri.36 S. Atlee Bobkius, D. D. S. I.)RAirl7ciis the Operative •, rg it and Meehan mil l'epartateeli• ,rlDenil. $ (Irvine Lueu-i -irell. het, .Mk b'ranklin Ilon-e and Po-t ()Mee. Culani.bia, Pa May 7 leis 9 CH EVHAG IDDBACCO. --- -- A T HENRYLocust street. opposite the Fruuklin Hotrim. con be hlid iIICA LEAF, VON fiRES-, and severA other of the best Chewing Tobacco, to which Igo attention on:hewers is invited. May 1,1858. M I'ORTS.D :ICIIII Double Extructf, 3. for the handkerchief: of , 'it RY GREEN'S. Oppo.ile Coln. Bridge. From Si. EIMEXE! iIItOOMS.---1110 Doz. Brooms, at Wholesale or Retail. at 11. PEA Dec 12. I e. 77 Lneu-t ra rect. 'INE'S Compound of Syrup of Tar, IVIld Cherry and Iloarliound, for the i•nio of Cough', Whooping Cough. Croup-Bee. I.'or alleoit fiIeCORKLK& DEI..1.1i11"1"S Family bledirino Store. Odd Fedovrai liail October 23, I. S. . Patent tlitittitt W ash Hollers. Ti 1 Esc %veil known 'knees tire kept eon-tautly on hum: ut 11 ENIIV I.oeusi street. opposite the P'runk lin House. Colutoln.t.2 aly 18,1957. Ciots id 'sale by the bushel or larger quan• i1.1.45y B. P. API.OI.D. Coiwnb to Dec 25.1959. 0111111 Lla.in. TOBICCO and Segars of the best brands, N•ltolennle and retail. at BRUVEIVA. f UST in store. n fresh lot or Brettiog d. I•rooieid'e It eeleteattnrCegetn`de Cattle Pderdet. and for sale by WILUAAIS. Front street. Columbia. Sept. 17, 1'59 Soap. ‘ll linxe4 of ()Wiry Mown Soap on hand and for .010 low ol the corner of Third and Union tiqs. A ugica 6. 1t,59 Suffer no longer with horns. A l h 1 1'r 1 1 1 h r 2 r' fe1 eyenn OT::L e 71iFt:111 wrr tto remove C t Sts hours. without Pain or soreness. Fly Paper. 4suPrßintt of fly Pacer. for th e dertruc• rt lion or Fhes. &e. dun. ju-: I.een received at the Drug store or R WILLIAMS, Front rtreet, ColutnlpiaJoi 30 184 Harrison's Columbian Ink i- +uperior perm:m..l,llv black. I' V and eorro.liag the pea. emit be had I/I tuts eitatatity.ai tte Pa ugly Nlerlielne More. and blacker )et s. that Eagli-b Bow Poll,h. Columbia. Jane 9. 1559 1 ~ :: i ~ Will m ß g Et r .. 7.th lN il l l 4 ll,7l 'S e o r c oo p t c h t. Z . :Sy o r f oj e s e . t r ir b g ici4 cc ductng ilia:minium. unlayme pain, IN-nimbi: action, Ace, in very ,Lori time. For sate by It. * WILLIAMS, gritt.l7.lF•s9. rrom •trees, Columbia. "pEDDING & CO'S Russia Salve? This ca l.', iremel) popolur remedy cur the cure of external ailments 10 now for -ale by R. WILLIA NE. Front st.. Columbia. rcpt. 24,1e59 'ALT by the Sark or Bushel, and Potatoes L o t in furor nr .111.61. 41.15.111111C...0r .1111. 381 t11.11,0:11t, .ofTloild and Union •f reef.. Jun 8 '5O FR A NGIPANINI Fixtructs mitt Snort; xn perfume sit lIARRY Feb. 19.'59. Opposite Cots. 'fridge. Prom st. CISTERN PUMPS. ti-IE subscriber has a large stork of Cistern Pump nod Rains. to which he cal:. the attention of the public. Ile to prepared to pet them Up for use in a substantial and enduring militia.. H. PFATILER, Locust street. December 12.19.57. iM!MEEM3 FANCY fiervi no-ortoneiet • r Toilet Soap., ever offered in Colutelnual.. 111 . _ HARRY ORF:ENT'S. Feb ID. OProdle Cola. Bridge, From St OLOUNE WATKR byylle pint, gnarl tir gallon 11.1.11acth tOr the loontherehief by the ‘ltmerettifterltd,Or in any quaintly to PUil pure ha... W.. ff~BRT 4; RICEN t r, 'IWO, ID. 'ED. Oppor4to Coln. Bridge. Front $1 • Just Received and For Sale, atm PoLIr. ftrouna Flamer: 50 lib's Beira Family Z. 171.7 Flour; SS Wei. No. I turd Oil of best quality; " 3011 boa. Uroutid Alum Salt, by B.F. APPOLII, No I and t Beim' March 23, 'Sto ERIN'S Celebrated Black and Green Teas, Cocoa and Chocolate, as Comer of Third old Union atreent_ - (tiov. tzoxis. ,GBiIA! or Boars'lostoa Crackers, for Lippeptics, nerd-Arrow Root Cracker•, far in- Irklido and ehileftenetir articles in Columbia, at 'the Family Medicine April IWO NEW CROP Si EDLESS RAISINS. 'THE best (or rietcPudding, Lc —n .fresh supply at H tIUYUAM'eI Grocery Store, Corner Frontand Union sta Nov. 19 1859. • Seedless Raisins! ALOT of very choice eesedie,s RvisinsAtrit receive:. et .19, . Ttrdeery Store. F. Iro.T ‘ ' l n . l i rl a N ; 24- t Nr VlPmt. • - . • s! FOR a destiratt article of Prunus you mutt tut to S. I. EBERLEIN'S Nov 10,1960. Grocery Stare, No 71 Locust st SHAKER CORN. t itan received, a ant rate lot of Shaker Corn ll.evvomore Grocery Store, center rreittirod 'Thelon Noy. 24,1,50. grriettiont. The Mysterfous Sketch At the corner of the Rue des Trabans, op posite the chapel of Saint Sebald, in Nu remberg, there stands a little- inn, tall and narrow, with notched' gables, and'dird win dow panes, and its roof surmounted by a plaster virgin. In this inn I passed the saddest days of my life I had gone to No rembeig' Co study the old German masters. but the want of money compelled me to have receurse to painting portraits—and such portraits! Fat gossips, tfitti (heir data their knees, aldermen in perukes, burgo masters in three cornered huts, etc.—all brilliant with ochre and vermillion. 82 50 EIEI From portraits I descended to sketches: then tb' profiles? at last, even these failed There is whiting more pitiable than to have constantly at your heels a landlord with thin lips, a screaming voice, and an impudent air, who never loses a chareS' to Call out: "Are you going to pay are soon, monsieur? Do you know how Mach your bill amounts to? Oh, nol of course this does not trouble you. Monsieur eats, drinks, and sleeps quietly. The good Lord takes care of the little sparrows. Monsieur only owes two hundred florins and ten kreutzers. A mere trifle; not worth th'e trouble of men tioning." Those who have never heatd this gamut sounding in their ears; can form no idea of the horror of it. The hive of art, imagina tion, the lofty entltt9iasm for the beautiful —wither at the breath of such a rascal. You become weak and timid; you lose even the sentiment of your personal dignity, and salute at a distance, and fespectfully, the most tiownish of burgoma9ters. Onti eight, having not a sou in my pocket, and being tlfrenta With a prison by the worthy waster, I sat down on my truckle•b'ed and gave myself up to reflec tion. The thought of suicide entered any head; and the more I reflected, the more de sirable such an exit from my troubles ap peared to my mind. So numerous and con vincing were the arguments in its far. r which thronged upon me, that I dared not look upon my razor, lest the irresistible force of logic should Clll4ll el me to commit bank ruptcy by cutting my throat. At length I blew out my candle and threw myself on my bed, with a determination to come to a decision the tie±t day. My dreetts were usually of the abomina ble Rapp; my one desire, to got money that I might rid myself of his odious presence. But this night a singular revolution took place in my mind. I about an hour I rose, and wrapping myself in an old gray coat, I began to trace on paper a rapid sketch in the Dutch style—something strange, fantas tic, quite apart from my habitual concep tions. Imagine to yourself a sombre court, in closed by high dilapidated walls. Those Walls, garnished with hooks seven or eight feet from the ground, suggest, at once, a slaughter house. On the left, through a trellis-work of laths, you discern a quartered ox, suspended by strong pulleys from the ceiling; drops of blood trickling from it col lect in a gutter obstructed by the refuse of the shambles. the light in the court comes from above, where chimneys, and weather cocks, and storied roofs of houses, are re lieved against an angle in the sky. At the extremity is a shed; beneath it a wood-pile. upon which is a ladder, and scattered around and seen ropes, bundles of straw, a rabbit-hut, and ben-coops, past service. How did these heterogeneous details come into my head? I cannot tell. I had no remembrance of any such place, and yet every stroke of the pencil seemed by its very tritthfulness an exact copy. Nothing was warning. But on the right, a corner of the sketch remained bare. I did not know what to pat there; but I was disquieted, agitated, as I looked upon it. Suddenly I saw a foot; but it was in a reverse position, and detached from the ground. Spite of its improbability, I followed the inspiration, and sketched it, without stopping to account for my fancy. The the leg appeared, and a portion of the dress. At length tho whole figure—an old woman, haggard. wan, dishevelled, thrown down on the edge of a well, struggling against a strong hand, which grasped her throat. It was a murder that I was sketching! The crayon fell from my hands. The old woman—her face contracted by terror, her form bent over the margin of the well, both hands grasping the arm of her murderer— terrified me. I dared not look at her. But the man—the murderer—to whom the arm belonged? I could not see him. It was im possible to finish my sketch. The sweat-drops stood upon my brow.— "I am fatigued," I said. "But little re• mains to he d..ne. I will complete it to morrow;" and, terrified by the vision, I lay down again upon the bed, and in five min utes slept profoundly. The nest day, as I was abed! to resume my work, a knook resotoded at my door. "Come in," I called out; and a man some• what advanced in years, tall, thin, and dressed in black, appeared upon threshold. The wholo physiognomy or the man—his closely approximating eyes, his large acqui line nose, bis lofty, broad, and bony brow— bad something severe and imposing. Ho saluted me gravely. "NO EN'ltfitAiNliiENT IS SO CHEAP A-S LEADING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO' riAsynßk." COLUMBIA,. PENNSYLVANIA,. SATURDAY MORNING, APRIL 7, 1860. M. Christian Venius, the artist, he said.: "That is my name, sir." He bowed again, adaing: "The Baron Frederic Van Spreckdal." The apparition in my "nor garret of this rich amateur, judge of the criminal court, impressed me strongly. I threw a glance upon my Worm'-eaten furniture, tattered dra peries, and diriiy float, and• felt humiliated: but Van Spreckdal appeared to pay no at tention to these details. "Nlititer Yenius." he resumed, "I have Crone—" But at that moment hl4 eyes were ar rested by the unfinkbed sketch, and he et,,preat "Are you the merrier of this sketch?" lie asked, after a moment's pause. "Yes, sir." "What is the price of it?" "I (14 nut sell .ay sketches. It is - tt die. sign f.r a pictu're." "Ahl" said he, and lifting the paper with his long, yellow fingers, ho took an eye glass from his waistcoat pocket, and hi , gan to study it attentively. The silence wits so greitt, that f heard distinctly the plaintive buzzing of a fly caught in a spider's wet): "And what will be the dicnem+ions of the picture, Meter Veciiasr . he said, at length, without looking at me "Three feet by film." _ - "And the price?" "Fifty dtreets:" Van Spreckdal laid the sketch down upon the table, and dray inie from his pocket a long parse of green silk ; began to slip the rings along. "Fifty ducats;" he said, and counting them oat; "here they are:" nerose. saluted me, and departed, while I sat'stupefied, listening to the clink of his ivory-hea p ed cane upon the staircase. When I recovered from my stupefaction, I sat down to finish ms sketch. A few strokes from the pencil, and it would he fin ished. But these few strokes were out of my power. The inspiration was over. The mysterious murderer would not disengage himself from the convolutions of my brain. I tried again and again. I forced myself to draw; but the results were' as disc , Aunt as a figure of Raphael in a Dutch hut of 'fen iers. At this moment. Rapp, according to his praiseworthy custom, opened the door with out knocking. llis eyes fell upon the pile of ducats, and hi shrieked: "Ala! ah! I have caught you, Mon4ienr painter! You pretended you had no money!" and he extended his crooked fingers with that nervous trembling which the si,ght of gold always produces in a miser. The remembrance of al. the insults I had suffered horn him, exasperated me. With n single bound, I seized him, and, thrusting him over the threshold, flattened his nose s'ith the door. Tho old usurer shrieked: "My money! thief! robber! my money!" till every lodger in the house ran out, ask ing, "What is the matter?" I opened the door quickly, and with d stroke of the foot sent Master Rapp rolling down the staircase. "That is the matter," I said; and closing my door, I double-locked it, while the shouts of laughter from the neighbors saluted the old miser on his progress down stairs.. This adventure had dispirited we, and I resumed nig work with some prospect of success: but an unaccustomed noise soon in corrupted my labors. It was the click of arm-, and the tramp of men a cemliog the staircase. A cold chill ran ovor me. Can I have broken the rascal's neck? and are they coming to seize me? There was a knock at toy door, and a rough voice said: "In the name of the law, open!" I thought of escaping by the window over the roofs; but a vertigo seized me at a mere glance at the diizy hdight. Again the summons came. -Open, or we will break dots o the door!" I turned the key, and saw the chief of po- "I arrest you " he said, and made a sign to two men, who seize I me by the collar, while the others rummaged my garret.— "Marchl" V7;1.1 the next under, and I descen ded the staircase, supported under each arm, like a consumptive in his third stage of ill = They put me into a hackney-coach. I asked what I had done, but they only ex changed significant sutiles. Soon a deep shadow enveloped us; the steps of the horses resounded under a vault. We had entered the prison.- The jailer shut me up in a cell as tranquilly as if he had been put ting a pair of stockings in a drawer, think ing all the.time of something else. I look ed around my cell. It had been newly whitewashed, and there was nothing upon the walls but a rude sketch of a gibbet, drawn by•my predecessor. The light came (rota an aperture nine or ten feet (room the floor, and the furniture consisted of a heap of threw.' I sat down upon the straw, wit-it my bands around my knees, and gave my self up to despair. I had killed Rapp.— fie bad denounced me before dying. I should be bung as his murderer. I started up„coughing, as if the hempen cravat al ready, pressed my throat. Again the jailer appeared, and ordered me tofollowhim. Liecondected me through long galleries to a sombre ball, with bench es arranged in a semicircles opposite which, on an elevated seat, were two persons, with their backs to the light, and their faces in shadow; buttes oneoftbem turned to his com panion, I recognized the aquiline profile of Van Spreckdal. Beneath then .at a low ta ble, was seated a olerk, tickling the tip of his ear with the feather of his quill. "Christian Venius," said Van Spree:dal, "where did you get this sketch?" showing me my nocturnal work, of which they had taken possession at the time of my arrest. "I am the author of it." There was a long silence. The clerk took down my answer; and as I listened to . the scratching of his pen, I wondered' vit.bat that had to' du with thb' kick I had given to Rapp. "You are the author of it?" said Van Spreckdal; "where did you get the subject?" "It is a fancy sketch." "You have not copied the details any where?" 'No, sir; I have imagined them all." "And this woman," pursued the judge, •'ccho is murdered on the edge of the well; Imre you imagined her, also?" "tflrriltrbtedly." Intve . never seen herr' "Never." Van Spreelaul rem; as if in&gbanf, then 80.Iting him4elf, he appeared' to consult his colleague in a low voice. Suddenly he said to the jailer: lake the prisoner to the carriage. We are Iving to the Metzerstrasse." I wa4 placed in a carriage with two po licemen. Chenf dram on the way, offered a pinch of Bnuff to his comrade. I exten ded my fingers mechanically to the box.— Ile drew .t quickly hack. The blood moun ted into my face, and I turned away my head to conceal my emotion•. "It you lank out of the window." said the Mall of the snuff box, •"we shall bo obliged to out manueleq on you. When the carriage 4toppe3, one of them alighted, while the other held we by the collar; then, seela4 his e•nnrode ready to receive Me, he pushel ate out rudely. We entered 0 thirroV• alley, with broker!. irreg ular pavement. A ello,vish nr stood on the walls, exhaling a fetid odor. I walk ed in darkness, with two men behind me.— Farther on appeared the light of an interior Court. As I advanced, a feeling terror took p.)s session of nee, like the onnatural horror of a nightmare*. I recoiled int4cinstioely. "Go on!" cried one of the polieemen be hind me, putting his hand on my shoulder; . marchl" Nly terror was nu longer instinctive, when saw before me the court which I had sketched the night before; its walls gar niAted with hooks, the wood-pile, the lad der, the rithbir-hut, the hen-coop, etc, Not a sky-light, great or small, high or low, not a cracked window-name, not a single detail had been' omitted. 1 was thunderstruck at this strange revelation. Near the well were the two judges. At their feet was the old woman, lying on her back, her long gray hair straggling over her form, her face livid, her eyes unnatur .lly wide, her tongue between her teeth. It was a horrible spectacle! "Well!" said Van Spreckdnl, in a solemn tone, "what have you to say?" I was silent. ••Di you confess that you threw this wo man, Theresa Becker into this well, after having strangled her, that you might steal her money?" "No," I cried, "no; I do not know this WOlllllll. I have never seen her. May God help user rhav is enough." be relied, in a diy voice, and der.rte t with his companion. I was carried back to the prison in a state of profound stupidity. I knew not what to think, My conscince, even, began to trim. ble me. I asked myself if I hie not really assassinated the old woman, I passed a wretched night of bait, bewilderment, de spair. With the dawn some of my black thoughts disappeared. I felt more confidence in my self, and, at the same time, a desire to see what was going on in the world without.— Other prisoners before me had climbed to the narrow aperture. They had dug boles in the wall, that they might mount more easily. I climbed there in my turn, and when, stretching my neck forward, I saw the crowd, the life, the movement, tears flowed' abundantly down cheeks. Ith might no longer of suicide. I experienced the strongest desire to live. They might con demn me to the hardest labor, might attach a cannon ball to my leg, if they would only let one live; to live was to be happy. The old market opposite my window, with its roof like an extinguisher resting on hea vy pillars, offered a fine spectacle. The old woman seated by her basket of vegetables, their cages of poultry and baskets of eggs behind them; the Jews, old clothes, dealers, with faces the color of box-wood; the batch erg, with naked arms, chopping meat at their stalls; the pemants, with large felt hats planted on the nape of the neck, their hands behind their backs, and smoking tranquilly their pipes; then the noise, the tumult of the crowd, the tones of the voice, the expres sive gestures, the unexpected attitudes,which betray at a distance the progress of a dispute . or paint the character of an individuol—all this captivated me; and in spite of my sad position I felt happy to be in the world. While I was looking on, a man passed, with his back bent, bearing an enormous quarter of beef on his shoulders. Nis arms were naked his elbows in the air, and hie head inclined on lie breast. Kis floating hair like that of Salvator's "Sicambre," concealed his flog; and yet, at the first glance, a thrill ran through my reins: "It is he!" r exclaimed. The blood rushed to my heart. I descen ded into my cell. My whole frame trem bled. "It is he?" I stammered, with a half choked voice. "lie is there—there—and I —I am about to die to expiate his crime.— What shall I du? what shall I do?" A sudden thought from heaven inspired me. I put my hand into my pocket—my crayons were there. Then, springing to the wall, I began to trace the scene of the mur der with almost supernatural energy. No more uncertainty; no more hesitating ex periments. I knew the man. I had seen him. I reproduced him before me. At ten o'clock the jailor appeared in my cell. Ills owlish stupidity gave place to admiration. "Is it passible," he cried, standing on the threshold. "Go, seek my judges," I said, pursuing my work with increasing exultation. "They are waiting for you in the criminal hall," he replied: "I wish to make some rerelation," I con tinued, putting the lust touch to the myste rious personage. In a few minutes the two judges came.— They !naked on etupohod. With one hand extended to the picture, and trembling in every limb, I celled out: •There is the assacsin!" Van Spreckdal after a moment's silence, asked his- name. gl do nut knew it," I answered; "but he is there' now in the market. in the third stall at the left, chopping 'neat." "What do you think of it?" said he, turn ing inward his colleague . "Let them find the man," replied the ,reter, in a grove tune. S nue the keeper.; wont out to obey the urder. The judges remained standing, look ing at the picture. I sank down upon the the straw, with lily head between my knees, exhau4teil with excitement. The noise of steps beneath the resound. ing arches of the corridor aroused me. The man entered. Van Spreckdal pointed in si lence to the picture. He looked at it o mo ment, turned pale, then, with a roar which chilled with terror, he struck out his enormous arms, and with one bound was out of the door. There was a fearful con test tit° corridor. We heard the panting respiration of the butcher,low imprecations, brief words, and the sound of struggling feet. It was over. The man re•entered Ilis head was bowed; his eyes blond shot; hts hands bound behind his back. He fixed his gaze once more upon the picture, ap peared to reflect, then, in a voice, as if speaking to himself, he said: "Who could have seen me?—at midnight." I was saved! Gen. Sam Dale. the Mississippi Partizan The Life and Times of Gen. Sant Dale, the Mississippi Partizan, has recently been issued from the press. under the editorship of II in. J. F. 11. Claihaurne, of Mississippi. It is a In ist interesting Work, full of start ling incidents, with a running commentary on men and things of the day in which the partisan lived. Below we give his impression of men and things about Washington—such as existed there in his day and generation. "About this time I resolved to visit Wash ington City, to attend to my claim for a large amount duo me for corn and other supplies, furnished to the troops in the ser vice of the United States at various times, and on the expedition to Fort Dale, in But ler county. On arriving I put up at Brown's hotel, and next day went to the quarters of the Alabama delegation. The third day- C.A. William It. King, of the Senate, brought me word that President Jackson desired to see me. 'Tell Dale,' said he to Col. King. 'that if I had as little to do as he has, I should have seen him before now.' Tho General was walking in the lawn in front of his mansion as we approached. lie ad vanced and graspei me warmly by the hand: 'No introduction is needed!' said the Col onel. 'Olt, no,' said the General, shaking my hand again, 'I shall never forget Sam Dale.' We walked up into the reception room, and I was introduced to Col Benton and five or six other distinguished men. They were all very civil, and invited me to visit them. They were talking 'Nullification,' the en grossing subject at that period, and the President turning to me, said, 'Gen. Dale if this thing goes on our country 'will be like a bag of meal with both ends open.— Pick it up in the middle or otherwise, and it will run out. I must tie the bag and save the country.' The company now took leave. bat when 1 rose to retire with Col. King. the General detained mo, and directed his servant to refuse all visitors until one o'clock. lie talked over oar campaigns, and then of the business that brought me to Washington. Lie then said, 'Sam, you have been true to your country, but you have made ono mistake in life; you are now old and solitary. and without a bosom friend or family to comfort you. God called mine away. But all I leave achieved—fame, power, everything—l would exchange if site could be restored to me for a moment.' The iron man trembled with emotion, and fur some tima covered his face with his band!, Lad tears dro::ped on his knee. I was deeply affected myself. lie took two or three turns across the room, and then abrupt!. said—• Dale, they are trying me here; you witness it; but, by the God of heaven, I will uphold the laws.' $1,50 PER. YEAR IN ffi • $ I 0 . ' I understood him to be referring to uutl•- fication again, his mind having evidently recurred to it, and I expressed the hope that things would go right. •They shall go right, sir,' he exclaimed passionately, shivering his pipe upon the table. Ho calmed down after this, and showed me his collection of pipes, many of a mot costly and curious kind sent to him from every quarter, his propensity for smoking being well known. 'These,' said he, 'will do to look at. I still smoke my corn-cob. Sam, as Tow and I have often done together; it is the sweetest and best pipe.' When I rose to take leave, ho pressed me to accept a room there, 'I can talk to you at night; in the day lam beset.' I declined on the plea of business, but dined with him several times, nlways—no matter what dig nitaries were present—sitting at his right hand. He ate very sparingly, only taking a single glass of wine, though his table was magnificent. When we parted for the last time, he suid: 'My friend, farewell; we shall see each other no more—let us meet in heaven.' I could only answer him with tears, for I felt that we should' meat no more on earth. The Alabama delegation eaeh invited me to a formal dinner, and introduced me very I generally to the members. Mr. Calhoun was particularly kind. It was from him that I first received Cie assurance that the nullification trouble would be settled. Re was a man of simple manners, very plain in his attire, of the most moral habits, in tellectual, something of an enthusiast, and, if personally ambitious, equally ambitious for the glory of his country. His style of speaking was peculiar—fluent, often vehe ment, but wholly without ornament; he rarely used a figure of speech; his gestures were few and simple, bnt be spoke with his eyes—they were full of concentrated fire, and looked you through; he was earnest in everything. He found his way very soon to my heart, and I then and now deeply re gret the dissensions sowed by intriguers be tween him and Gen. Jackson. When I visited Colonel Benton, at 5 o'clock in the evening, I was conducted to him in a room where he was surrounded by kis children and their school books. He was teaching them himself. That very day he bud presented an elaborate repor to the Senate, the result of laborious research, and had pronounced a powerful speech— yet, there he was, with French and Spanish grammars, globes, and slate and pencil, ins tructing his children in the rudiments. Ile employed no teacher. The next morning I was strolling, at sunrise, in the Capitol grounds, when, whom should I see, but the Colonel and his little ones. Shaking me by the hand, he said, 'These are my *ice-nin nies, General—my only treasures. I bring them every morning among the flowers, sir: it teaches them to love God—love God, sir.' I was struck with the sentiment, and with the labor this great man performed: and yet he never seemed to be fatigued. lie was not a man of conciliatory manner, and seemed to be always braced for an attack. He spoke with a sort of snarl—a protracted sneer up. on his face—but with great emphasis and vigor. His manner towards his opp 'ciente, and especially his looks, were abcolutely insulting; but it was well known that he was ready to stand up to whatever he said or did. It was wonderful how he and Mr. Clay avoided personal collision; they hated each other mortally at one period; they spoke very harsh and cutting things in de bate; both were proud, ambitions, obsZinato and imperative; both were fe.trloss of con sequences, and though habitually irascible and impetuous, perfectly collected in mo ments of emergency. They differed on almost every point, and only agreed cordially on one—both hated Mr. Calhoun. As an orator, Mr. Clay nev er hal his equal in Congress. I would li ken him, from what I have heard, to Mr. Pitt. No single speech that consummate ora tor and statesmen ever made produced the impression male by Sheridan in his celebra ted oration on the impeachment of %Verret) Hastings; no speech of Mr. Clay's may ho compared with the great oration of Mr. Webster in reply to Mr. llayne; but fur a series of parliamentary speeches and paella memory triumphs, no British orator may be compared with Pitt, and no American with Clay. Tu a very high order of intel lect, they both united a bold temperament, indomitable resolution, the faculty of com mand—the highest faculty of all. Mr. Webster, with brilliantstenius, with a wit less studied, if not so sparkling as Mr. Sheri dan, and with oratorical gifts not surpassed in ancient or modern times, was of a con vivid, not of a resolute temperament, and was defiektut in nerve and firmness. The want of these was felt throughout his career, and enabled others to simnel when he should have triumphed. As a companion, especially after dinner, ho was most delight ful; of other times he was saturnine and re pulsive. Mr. Clay was haughty, and only coinial to his friends. CJI. Banton was stiff with every ono. Mr. Calhoun was offside and conciliating, and never failed to attract the yuuag. Bat for grace of manner. for the just medium of dignity and affability, and for the capacity of iufluencin; men, no one of those great , men, not all of them together. may be com pared with Gen. Jackson. The untutored savage regarded him as a sort of arousing deity; the rough backwoodsmaa Wowed him with fearless confidence, the theories [WHOLE NUMBER 1,546. of politicians and jurisconsuls fell before his intuitive perceptions; systems and statesmen were extinguished together; no measure and no man survived his opposition and the verdict of mankind awards him pre cedence over all. Ile had faults, but they were lost in the lustre- of his character; he was too arbitrary and passionate, and too• apt to embrace the cause of his friends with out inquiring into its justice. But these were faults incidental, perhaps, to his fron tier life and military training, and to the injustice he had experienced from his oppo nents. I saw Blair, of the Mat, Amos Kendall. and Col Joe Gales, of the National Intelli gencer. Blair had the hardest face I ever inspected. The late Gen. Glasscock - , of Au gusta, one of the noblest men that ever lived, told me that a mess of Georgia and Ken tucky members, dining together one day, ordered an oyster supper for thirty, to be paid fur by the mess that produced for the occasion, the ugliest man from their respect ive States. The evening came, and the com pany assembled, and Georgia presented a a fellow, not naturally ugly, but who had the knack of throwing his features all cn one side. Kentucky was in a peck of trou ble. Their man, whom they had cooped up for a week, was so hopelessly drunk that he •ould not stand on his legs. At the last mo ment, a happy thought occurred to Albert G. Haws. Ito jumped into a hack and drove to the Globe office, and brought Blair as an invited guest. Just as lie entered, looking his prettiest, Haws sung out, 'Blair, look as Arature made you, and the oysters are ours!' It is hardly necessary to add that Georgia paid for the oysters. The first time I saw Blair, about 11 o'clock at night, ho was writing en editorial on his knee. lie read it to Cul. King and myself. It was a thundering attack on Mr. Calhoun —what is called a 'slasher' fur something that had been said that morning in the Sen ate. Col. King begged him to soften it.— 'No,' said Blair, 'let it tear his insides out.' With all this concealed fire, he was a man of singular mildness of manners. Ile inn'• ted me to nn elegant dinner at his splendid mansion, crowded with distinguished guests. Ile entertained liberally and without affec tation, and I was charmed with the beauty and the kindness of his fascinating wife. Amos Kendall. of whom I had heard so much, as the champion of the Democracy, I found a little, stooped-up man, caditTermis as a corpse, rather taciturn, unpretending in manner, but of most wonderful resources and talent. Col. Joe Gales is a John Bull, they tell me, by birth and in„sontimenr, and ho -has the hearty look of one. But if so, how camo the Bulls to burn his office during the war? The Inteligeneer, I well remember, stood up manfully for the country, and often bevel and nay comrades, in ]Bl3—'l4, when hun gry and desponding, and beset with dangers, been cheered up by a stray fragment of this paper. Cut. Gates shook me cordially by the hand, and invited me to dine with him. Being compelled to decline, ha insisted on my taking a drink out of his canteen—the very best old rye I over tasted. The same evening he sent a dozen to my quarters— large, honest, square-sided. high-shouldered bottles, that we rarely see now a-days. The printers at Washington all lire in a princely style; spacious derailing'', paintings statuary, Parisian furniture, 'sumptuous ta bles, choice wines! Nothing in the metrop olis astonished me so much. A printer in the South usually lives in a little box. of n house, not big enough fur furniture; his pictures and statues are hi. • wife and children; his office is a mere shanty, stuck full of glue and paste, and all sorts of traps: ho works in his coat sleeves, with' the lIS9III. taace, sometimes, of a ragged, turbulent, dare devil of a boy; he toils night and day, often never paid, and half starred, making great men out of small subjects, and often receives for it abnsc and ingratitude; the most generous fellows in the world—ready to give you the half they have, though they seldom get much to give. In Washiagto•t, they drink Port, Madeira, and Old Rye; with us, they seldom get higher than rot gut!" THREE EXTRAORDINARY LIYES.—Tha dew ; aver Countess of Tardvvick, England, but recently deceased, at the age of ninety-five, came of a stock noted for its longevity. ller father, the Scotch Earl of Ba leares, Wee out in 1715," with Lord Derwentwater and Forster, who, with their forces put down the Stuart insurrection in the High lands in that year. It seems, at first eight almost impossible that .a person who has just quitted the stage of existence could have a parent who partic'pated in historical events ono hundred and forty-three years ago. The grand-father of the Dutchess was born in 1043, the year that Charles I, of England, was ireheaded. %Then her grand mother was married, Icing Charles II gave away the bride. These three lives of one family extend over the long petiod of two hundred and nine years, which, being in auceessicm,is really extraordinary longevity. and bridges over an amount of history that is truly surprising.. It mast have sounded queer to hear the old lady talk about her grandfather, who was a contemporary with Cibmwell two centuries ago. itaL.Matrimonial history is a narrative of many words; bat dm story of lovo ?any be told in a few Idlers.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers