I, , AUTO 4O A 6 F-E , In the huith of winter midnightt-i In the hush of sleepiughonse— When no weird wind shrs.in the glborny tiro, The spirit of itorartn rouse: When never n glint of moonlight Gleams from the great black sky, By th crow red Ilre's glow, as it smoulders low 14reel), my lettere and 1. My letters, they. lie mhere I tossed them, On the crimson hearth-rug there, Ball vivid and bright, in the ruddy light, As cobras in their lair. I pushed the hair from my forehead, That burns and throbs so fast, Thinking, the while, with a strange dull smile, ' Of the task J must d,o at lasti. . . . Who knows but I the comfort - Those foolish letters have been? 'The depth and scope--,the strength and hope Of these "leaves' that are always "green"? • Who knows but, I, how sadly, To-morrow, I and my dream, By the ashes gray will weep and say, Woe's me for the vanished gleam? The gleam of idle gladness, The glimmer of memories bright, That hid in each line of those letters of mike, Those letters I burn to-night?" Ma well! the dream was a lolly; Its joy was an idle thing, Its hope was a lie, and its loyalty Died of a whisper's sting. tiso a kiss—the last—to my letters, A resolute hand, and—there! Do the sad dark eyes of my paradise Meetmine through the fierce flame's flare? --ITemple Bar. LITERARY AND ART ITEMS. GOSSIP ABOVE %VIIITERS. William Cullen Bryant. Mr. Bryant, now seventy-three years old, furnishes an' ' ample of serene and beautiful. old age which' stands almost without a par allel. among the men with whose names the reading world is familiar. From first to last, the lite of William Cullen Bryant has been happy—tranquil far beyond that which falls to the common lot of men. From;first to last it has been pure, wise and virtuous to a de uce which is seldom illustrated in this world. He has, so far as we know, 'never had 'to struggle with adversity in any shape, scarcely even with temptation so much .as most men • do. In his childhood the bent of 'his mind was lovingly and assiduously encouraged by his father; and all through his life he has enjoyed the good. will and esteem of his contemporaries to an extent almost unparal leled. He has deserved .it, too,'which is more, as the world wags. In our opinionthe stands at the head of American poetry, beyond a question. 'As a poet, Mr. Bryant has no critics in this day. Tracing the poetical history of Mr. Bryant, we find ourselves taken back almost to the cradle. It is not asserted that his first utter ances were in rhyme, nor that the lullaby to which his cradle was rocked was sung to his own words. But it is clear that he must have began versermaking at an age when "the common man," or child, is still floundering in the puzzling mazes of the alphabet; for no poet prints his first attempts, and little Wil liam had achieved print when he was but nine years old. The Hampshire Gazette, a weekly newspaper published at Northamp ton, Mass., was the medium through which the little rhymer sought publiCity for his pre cocious effusions. There were "Poet's Cor ners" in those days. The practical progres siveness of this age, withits railroads, its tele graphs; and its lightning presses, has oblite rated that, amon,,,,a other institutions- of the good old times. Village newspapers ape the fashions of the metropolitu, giants of the press, and good-bye to the "P'oet's Corner." In those days,_ literature was • looked upon by most people with more. disfavor than now. It is still common enough for world wise parents to look upon a "literary turn of mind" as a fatal bar to the success in life of their progeny; but in that, day it was the ttac to look askance at the unhappy child who ex hibited a love for "Idle poetry, That useless and unprofitable art.' But good Dr. Peter Bryant, William's father,. was a man of strong literary tastes and fine scholarship. He hailed with delight these exhibitions of genius in his boy, and entered into his pursuits with genuine enthusiasm. He encouraged him in every way, and, recognizing the common danger of too great' precocity in a youth, sought earn estly and faithfully to inculcate habits of careful composition, systematic study, and thorough mastery of the mica! of poetic art. Few successful literateurs are able- to look back on the influence exerted by their parents upon their young minds, with a love and veneration so profound as that which ' William Cullen Bryant feels ibr the gentle and scholarly village doctor of Cumtnington. All his life, Mr. Bryant's atlection and grati tude to his father,. and recognition of his in fluence in making the poet what he is, has been one of his Must marked • peculiarities_ Any allusion to his tether, even at this day, is sure to awaken in Mr. Bryant, the fondest: words! of eulogy. He has also sung this good parent's praise in many of his poems. It is one of those questions which we never epect to decide, whether this feeling confers most credit on the father who could awaken it, or on the son who could - cherish it so vividly through so many years: but the world can never fully know how wonder fully.tenacious are the affections of iMr. Bry ant's heart—how df.'ep how strong, haw deathless. His precocity thus carefully directed, it was none the less carefully encouraged. When the lad was but fourteen, he composed a poem of considerable character, entitled "The Embargo, or Sketches of the Times." This \vas published in Boston, and made a small volume, which had a remarkable sale for the period. -A seams! edition was called ler'iVithin the year. It was a! satire upon President Jetlerson ami his measures. • In the same year another considerable poem, "The Spanish Revolution," was published. The astonished public 'received. these poems with such incredulity as to their being the work of, such a young' head, that in the later edition it was found advisable to print a sworn certificate as to their genuineness. •' At At the age of sixteen, young Bryant en- “Asitiiriettnisnts” in saiskesa ! ease— Mred Williams College, where he remained NVords Obsolete in England in Use two years; and then, on his own application, all America. received an honorable dismissal. He at once /It is well known that many words and ex began to study law in the office of Judge ressions have been preserved, and are yet in Howe, in Worthington, Mass., and at the/common use in America, but which, have end of three years was admitted to the bar. / become obsolete in England, or continue .to Meantime he had written `•Thanatopsis;" but / be used there only in certain localities. Such it Was not published until he was twenty- j obsolete words and expressions,' Whenever two. Then it found place in the North they occur in Shakespeare, are, of course, American lieview, and the reputation of ! understood at first sight by the American the poet was forever settled--the quality of reader; while, to make them intelligible to his genius recognized beyond further dispute. the English reader, they appear to require it would be a -curious bit of statistical infix . - notes (often fortified with learning) by Eng mutton it' we could aseertssa just how many lish editors. For the sake of brevity, these times the critical pen has said, in effect, '"lf may be termed 81takespcares American- Mr. Bgant had never written another line, itrine ! even though he happened to make his position as a poet would be made unques- use of them a few years before the first Eng tionable forsall time -by this single effort of lish settlements in America. his muse." Trite enough this remark has be- Of this class of words (1.) eliarc is a fami come by frequent repetition, but it is as true liar and ofteMquoted.example, and it is 'used to-day as it, ever was. lAs Alfred de- Musset twice by Cleopatra. If, as is likely, it was says, "One rose, upon a buslathough it bloom ! pronounced in Shakespeare's time with the alone, proves that which bears it to be a true third sound of a, chair '', then the change to rose tree." , • ohore would easily follow; and in this' form From thii time • ! forwarl,llr...l.hyant'a. ea- .. thew ord is in.daily use in farmers' families in reer was liefuaitely marked out. Though he most of the Northern States. . . took high rank dtt , ' a la,Wyer in; his natiVe State, he loved leitterS more ,than law, and ; soon relinquished piactice,entirely.. In 18.15• .he came to this city;' ands; shortly after-began ,to,e,dit the New York Review.-'' Richard 4, Dapa,Halleck.Wiiebington Irving-and-others, - were among his most intimate friends and warmest admirers at this time and subse quently. In ts2o, he became one of the edi tors of the F,vening Pose; and such ho still remains. He became its manager and politi cal director within a lbw years, and thereupon gave it a new political bent. The politics or those days are not of much interest at the present moment, and the politics .ot this day it is not our province to discuss. Suffice it to say that Mr. Bryant has always been found on the side of freedom. • • ' Mr. ElaM Bliss, of this city, issued the first full edition Of Bryant's poems. Irving was then in London,. and caused the volume to be republished'in that city, announcing - himself as editor, and dedicating the volume to Samuel Rogers, the banker poet. Since then the Harpers have been Mr. Bryant's publishers, and the most friendly relations have always existed between them. The world is most familiar with Mr. Bry ant's prose writings through the editorial columns of the Evening 'Post. He has few equals in the newspaper press as a writer of elegant and correct Enghsh.a A book might be made from his "leaders" in the _Post which would rivals the old ,Spectator essays for the-purity of its language and the clearness of its thought. But we suppose there are few people now-a-days who ever think of Mr. , Bryant as a prose story-teller. There is an old book, which maybe found at the Astor Library, we believe, called Tales of the Glauber ,Spa, and which contains two stories from Mr. Bryant's pen—" The Skeleton's Cave" and "Medflel4" . His sketches of travel, under the title or "Letters of a Traveler," are aISO most delightful prose reading. Mr. Bryant has traveled extensively in for eign lands, and is now abroad—as any one who reads the Evening Post can easily per ceive. He is well . acquainted . with the French; Italian, German and Spanish lan— guages. His first trip abroad was made with his family in 1834. He intended to spend several years abroad, studying life and lite rature, and educatinn . b his children; but after two years' absence lie was suddenly called home by the serious illness of Mr. William Leggett, who had been' left in charge of the Evening Post. But Mr. Bryant, whose poetry is the most distinctively American of any that we have, has not neglected his own land in order to see lands beyond the ocean. On the contrary, he has traveled extensively in this country, and never wearies of de . scribing its beauties to those he meets abroad. A French gentleman whom the writer met in Chicago recently stated that the immediate canoe of his coming to this country was that he had : "heard Mr. Bryant talk" at a dinner where they met; "et lllepqrole,tfest le sent (whirr AmeriCan qui ait tumour de' la patric ties prononce!" When 4 home, Mr. Bryant lives in sum mer at a delightful place near Roslyn, L. 1., although he has recently been completing a tasteful country home at Cummington, his native place. His habits of life are these of a man in full communion with the beautiful in nature. His house is an old-fashioned mansion, surrounded by beautiful and luxu riant grounds. He is in the habit of coming to town every day, to do a. certain share of labor at the editorial desk in the old and dingy rooms in Nassau street, where he has toiled so long and so well. He leaves his .desk at an early hour in the afternoon, descends to the counting-room, pockets a copy of the Post, and goes home to Rbtlyn. There he throws off the dares of the day, and becomes the simple:hearted man, the lover of nature. Despite his advanced years, he has an element of rollicking playfulness in his composition, and is proud of the youthful 1 spring and elasticity which he retains in sueh a marked degree. He is an indefatiga ble walker, and often when strolling with an intimate friend he has been known to pro pose' a friendly trial of speed, darting off down the grassy slope with a spirit that might put th,e youngest of men to his mettle. Coming to a fence, he will put his hand on the top rail and vault over it with the ease of a practiced gymnast. Sometimes he will spring up and catch the bough of a tree 'over . head with his hands, drawing himself up and touching his chin to the bough, and then playfully demanding if you can do as much. . ' In his domestic relations, Mr. Bryant's life has again been marked by the liveliest se . renity. No man was ever more devotedly attached to the wife with whois he'lived so many years. His conduct toward her in sickness was such as to awaken the-admira . tion of every one who observed it; hardly. ever away from-her bedside, persistent and : untirin, his - watchfulness and. devotion. The iiiinc.'d ep and deathluss love exhibited i, ' in WA feelin , tor the long-vanished tamer is exhibited again in his affection for his family. He is never so happy as when surrounded by his dear ones. In winter he resides in a plain but. serviceable mansion/ up town, in thi city. In personal appearance ,Mr. Bryant is quite impressive, with his- fine grey heard and hair, his large and spumetrical head, with his high broad forehead and kindly eyes, and his erect figure.. His appearance is always much improved when lie takes his bat off, for with it on the best part of him is hidden from view. His 'manner, While not precisely that of the "man of the world," is always self-poised: and wheii once the slight crust of reserve lie wears is broken throu .:h, you come at a glorious wealth of geniality and affection. His friendships are not lightly grown, and they/last forever. He is quick to recognize talenttin a young man, and to en courage it; 'but/ it' he discovers in a contem plated proteg/ a lack of fine moral sense, a want of the i , iimple virtues, au inclination to be-"loud" and 'fast," and to disregard the admonitions of his elders, the interest awa kened by talent, however great, is not suffi cient to hold Mr. Bryant's regard. An honest and high-minded man himself, lie demands as much from others,notwithstanding his charity ' I is broad and much-forgiving. Mr. Bryant is now among, the Highlands of Scotland, and will not return for some time.—Nero, Yuri; t., a«zette. THE DAILY: EVENING BULLETIN.-1-THILADELPHIA, SATURDAY, A (2.) Mills; for the al Ofra:' , wagonl .. as •Ertgltuadibut.*hich We ..„Anfericaria . likre pra=.. "thill-horse," for the andft or.,i74eet-horsd3 served :and'ettCreaaily'slinderstaMl ilia% /tits, with theiOnni:inearting,cAta: "An present day \ThOre arc, :Indeed, many pa 'you draW backward;, piit you i' the sagesin Shakeepifiare reminding us that, At' and Cr ( *tdaTlL • • the time he wrote, '.Engliind was corripai* (3.) "I think theenow-eome,cothmon cus- , .• tiVely:a new :O.Ottntry,:as .Anierica As:at the tomer."—All's .:•• V. 3.—Customer present day. Thus, MaCbeth says : properly means, one •who buys or trades; but -The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear in American slang we now often hear, Shall never sully with doubt, nor sh«kc with fear." "loose customer," "hard customer," "slippery j This truly sublime figure of speech comes customer," "rough customer," etc. from a homely source,.beingsuggested by the (4.) "My cake is dough."—Taming the necessary and almost exclusive use of timber Shrew, V.. 1. And "Our cake is dough on as a building material in a new country, not both sides."—Taining the Shitw, I. I. only for houses, but especially for bridges, as One English editor remarks: "This is an oh- happens to be the case in America at the pres solete proverb, and its meaning is not now ent day. A. piece of timber Will "sagg" from easily explained." But among people in this the gradual effect of weight or pressure upon country who are in the habit of using prover- •+, it; but it "shakes" or vibrates from the . ap bial expressions there is not one more fre- lineation of sorne.sudden or transient force. .cittent and familiar; and it is well understood And this is also the different operation of by all classes to signify "a loss of hope;" dis- I doubt and fear on the mind. ' The first is appointment, or the failure of some plans or slow and lasting change, while the latter is expectations. only a momentary impression. (13.) "Placket" and "placket-hole" are yet Again; Duncan's horses are said to have somewhat used in America; for I chanced not "Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung long ago to hear a lady giving some directions out, to her maid about "the placket-hole in her , Contending 'gainst obedience— dress." My near relationship permitted me This was doubtless what is known in to ask an explanation. I was told that it was Anierica, by the Mexican word "stampede"— "the slit or opening in the upper part of the a sort of panic which, from some cause; gen skirt, when it is made separate from the waist erally unknown, seizes upon horses and (more or body, for convenience in putting on or off." rarely) other domestic animals. It is probe- Three-quarters of a century ago there was bly unknown in England at the present day, much discussion among the editors and com- and only happens in parts of this country mentators of Shakespeare about the true and I comparatively thinly inhabited—as the far practical signification of this so frequently- West and some Southern districts. The same used word in Shakespeare. But the fact just phenomenon is referred to where Glendower stated goes to prove that Steevens (Dr. John- says: Bon's friend) was right, as I suspect he pretty "The goats run from the mountains, and ,the generally was, when in' earnest in discussing herds any mooted„Shakespearian question. - Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields." (6.) "-- An envious Sliver."—ifctifilct, Again, of Duncan's horses: IV. 7 . "Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse— "'Tie said they ate each other." •Alca'belh, IV. 1. " Will sliver and dis- This language, used of horses, sounds like branch."—LcaoV. 2. This word "sliver" is a poetical exaggeration. Yet it happens to yet known and used in America for a small be true that horses, when loose and engaged splinter of wood. in deadly conflict with each other, only use (7.) "Afeard" for afraid, fearful or appre- their teeth, and aim to get „at one another's hensive. This word occurs some thirty times throats, but never use their heels. They kick in Shakespeare's plays (see Mrs. Clark's Con- only when quarrelling, or when they are tied cordance), and is there generally used by per- or hampered in some way. sons of high station. At the present day in this For the confirmation of this last statement country it is often heard among uneducated I have the authority,tif the colonel of one of persons of English descent our (regular) cavalry regiments, who was (8.) "Flaw," for a puff of wind, or a sudden himself brought pi) on a horse-raising farm gust, occurs some halt' a dozen times, and is in Virginia, and/ who • has since had thirty duly explained each time by one of the best years' experience in United States frontier Englis editors—Singar ; yet no cognate word service. C. W. S is better understood in this country, nor oftener used, especially by those living near the sea board, oron our great lakes and rivers. „ (9.) "'I cannot tell," is a phrase in vulgar here with old people; and implies a puzzled feeling, or a state of stupid doubt or perplex-, ity. It is - explained in this sense by the Eng lish editor just namedas, "I know not what to • think of -it." . . (1 O. ) "Base tyke ;" "Bobtail tyke.:'—Tyke evidently meant a cur dog when Shakes peace wrote. I distinctly recollect that in my early years one of our native "help" was, wont to call any one she was angry with "you ugly tyke." (II.) " Slyly finger'd from the deck." —3 Ilcriry VI., V., I.—A similar use of the word "deck" for a pack of playing-cards is common at the present day throughout the Western and Southern States. . (12.) "P'eteku and wayward was thy in fancy."—Richard 111., IT. , 4.—This word is also to be found in two or three other pas sages in Shakespeare, and always applied to infancy, as peevish, fretful and difficult to please. We now hear it used not only of children; but as often applied to grown peo ple. (13.) "Thou crusty batch of nature."—The word "crusty" is now more used - in England than here, to mean cross or ill-teinpered. The word "batch" is borrowed from the baker's shop, and is still used as a popular figure of speech in America,: generally in a derisory sense, the same as in Shakespeare's text; and, when applied to persons, means that all are equally bad and contemptible. (14.) "There is not a 'whittle in the unruly camp"—Tilizon, V. 2.—1 do not know that we now ever hear a pocket-knife called a • "whittle;" but the practice of whittling is spoken of as' an American characteristic. Hence the proverbial saying applied to a scheming but unsuccessful person; "Always , a-whittling, but never making nothing." (15.) TO quit, in the sense of to make even, and, also, to revenge.—This word is so con stantly used with both these signification, that American readers must wonder a little to see it explained by an English editor, and we therefore inter that it must be going out . of • use there'. (16.) " When I cried, Ho? Like boys unto a 7711188."--.Antony and Cfropatra,lll., 2.=-31u8s is a familiar word.to Americans, as meaning a.slight brawl or disturbance.' (fl.) first, survu the. plot." "—Fight fora perft, ; :-Ni.aba the • num bers—."—The word -"plot" is probably oftener used with tis than any other term, to signify a building site, or any small paropl of land. (l 8.) "Moreover, puddings and flap c1;8" were promised by the kind-hearted fishermen to the ship-wrecked Prince Peri cles.—" Flapjacks" are those broad, thin and extemporaneously-prepared cakes now called pancakes, and consecrated in Old England to Shrove Tuesday, but which are yet known in New England by their Shakespearian name. (IP.) "Thee I'll \ Ada: up"—Lear, W., 6. "Where fires thou find'st aura/.'(t."—Merry/ 11' i reB, V., s.—To "rake up" simply meant to cover over lightly or hastily with earth or ashes. To "lake up the fire' —eouute feu; and hence cm:few—will soon become obso lete all the world over; and with it,* perhaps, the sacred word "hearth." It was, no doubt, as common as any household word in Shakes . peare's time, when wood was probably the only fuel used inland, and a "sea-coal fire" only known to people of the seaport towns. Thirty years ago, in this country, before the era of stoves, friction matches, anthracite coal and hot-air furnaces, the last duty in every farm-house and kitchen, before . going to bed, was "to rake up the fire," by covering the burning brands with ashes, to preserve them for lighting a fire the next morning. And servants were liable to reproof' for neglect of this ditty the same as in England (see Mcciyj fl'i'es of ll'ilid8or), as it was not only unsafe, but made it necessary to run to the neighbors in the morning to fetch live coals.* (29.) "But with a longer lellicr limy he walk."—To explain the meaning of the word "tether" to any American reader would be quite superfluous. (21.) "Hunts not the trail of policy so sure;" and "On the false trail' they cry.' It will be a long while—generations or even centuries, perhaps—before the word "trail" ceases to be • used by Americans; but !den now it seems that English readers of S peace require to have its meaning expVtlQ to them. .('22,) "We will have, if this fia/tje not, an antic." To "fadge" continues to be used in. America; as a somewhat vulgar synonym for ; to answer the purpose, to succeed, or to work well. This probably, does not include all of the Americanisms, as 1 have ventured to term them, to be found in Shakespeare's plays, as I have only just noted such as attracted my_ attention while'occupied with a much more important and agreeable task. 'I here are not only words, but also things and facts to be found in Shakespeare which have become obsolete and nearly forgotten - in.- *We are here reminded that much of the material for poetry is likely to be destroyed by the changes rapidly going on in the cus toms and appliances of our domestic 'and every-day life: Twenty years hence, when cast-iron cooking ranges have wholly dis placed the old massive brick ovens, this couplet may require explanation; "And crickets sing at the oven's mo,uth, As the blither for their drouth." =Pericles, Act Gower For then, probably, no one will hear, and few remember ever to have heard the evening music, once familiar in every home. In like manner, and for the same reason, it may hap pen, after steel pens have been in general use a century longer, a note by - sotne future editor of Byron may be needed to explain what he meant lty his'apostrophe to his "gray goose quill."—A. Y. Post. Recollections of Cadet Life—Rebel General• as Boys at West Point—An Indian Story. "An Old Dragoon" is writing a series of in -teresting sketches for a Richmond paper, giving reminiscences of cadet life at the West Point Military Academy. The following arc extracts SIDNEY JOIINfiO:S The first cadet I ever heard give the word of command was Sidney Johnson, and the impression his appearance made on me is as clear and distinct now as it was then. His stalwart form and well-developed muscles gave him an appearance of great strength, while his gentle manners and benevolent countenance indicated a man of the tenderest affections. Hard to arouse to . anger, he was ever ready to espouse life cause of the op pressed. His noble nature endeared him'to his fellow cadets and his 'associates in fter life. On one of the fairest pages of hisfory must be written the deeds of this gallant Itol dier and true patriot. LEONIDAS POLK Leonidas Polk, tall and straight as au ar row, was the orderly sergeant of my com pany. Scrupulously strict in the discharge of his duties, retiring in Ilia manners, and a devout member even then of the Episcopal (lurch he invariably commanded the respect of us all. EOBEET E. LEE Robert E. Lee held, the.two 'offices, in the corps usually filled by the best soldiers; classr—sergeant-major and adjutant. He di - charged the duties of these offices with zeal and fidelity. his personal appearance sur paSsed in manly beauty that of any other cadet in the corps. Though firm in his posi tion and perfectly erect, he had none of the stillness so often assumed by.men who affect to he very strict in their ideas of what is military. His limbs, beautiful and syuimet-' rim); looked as though they had come from a turning lathe; his step was as elastic as if he spurned the ground upon which he trod. llc was noted among his classmates as a great student, and as having passed through the trying ordeal of a military school without a single demerit mark. •(I. generally got one hundred and fifty a year.) During Bob Lee's stay at West .Point, I am_ aatisfied he never swore an oath; tasted a (leap of ardent spirits, nor used . "the weed" in any shape or form. The same virtues of abstinence may be attri buted to Charles Mason; but I think "Char ley" occasionally let slip au oath; at least he looked as if 'he did. Mason was in Lee's class, and intellectually had no superior at the Point. How well 1 can recollect his bright, piercing eye,gleaming and "snapping" with excitement as lie stood at the black board; demonstrating some intricate and beautiful mathematical problem. Mason early- left the army, and has since sought and gained that distinction in civil life which his talents and pure character entitled him cto. lie was for a long time Commissioner of the Patent Office, chosen for his scientific attain ments, and tilled with ability for several years a place on the Supreme Bench of lowa. u. w. • Another prominent cadet in Lee's class was B. W. Brice. He was high up as a soldier, but low down as a student; very handsome, full of wit and humor, and always ready for fun and frolic. Everybody liked. him, and was glad to call Ben Brice his friend. He was of "our set," and considering the circumstance, it is wonderful he ever ;,reached the office Of Paymaster-General Untied States Army, which he now holds, and the duties of which he discharges with Masterly ability. • Jonwrox. Joseph E. Johnston a great deal of the military spirit that pervaded the corps and which was infused by Major Worth. He was not remarkable for his studious habits, and belonged to a fast set, of which I myself was an active member. Few of that set escaped arrest, confinement and court-martial. Joe Johnston was one of those genial spirits that gave zest, to a cadet's life. Full of ambition and a desire to excel,, he was yet ever ready to join a scouting party to Butter-7 milk Falls, the residence of the immortal - Benny - Havens. - - appearance —was—very 'UST 10, 18014. military, anti when unilgr ahneito more the sojilier. lie*as very expitiit in the manual of lir* and, barrierhis &ticket, so perpendicular that:it leaned &little 00 match to the front. Though we .recogutt,ed his talents then r ive little dreamed lie O : the military genius he - gas elude displayed M its a commander. ' ' JOHN 11. MY :RUDER. My old friend and classmate, John B..„Ma grittier, was perhaps the most elegant' and 'alBfingW catlGt at the Academy in that day, and I do not believe West Point has ( over had Lis equal. He was a first-rate soldier, of fine appearance, and very, strict whe„d on duty as "officer of the day," never titling to report the slightest violation of regulations, even though the delinquent was his most intimate friend and room-mate. • lids trait in his charadter I have reason to know frOM persomtl experience. j9hn v for the. corps the "arbiter. of this elegant, the glass of fash ion." A STORY/ ABOUT WINDER. At the military academy everything was invariably done in exactly the same way, and the sentiment of "the corps" was always de cidedly opposed to anything like innovation upon established forms and customs. For example,'„ the commander of the evening paradotoolt up his position at a certain time, aboutaixty paces distant from the centre of the line. He' then:folded his arms across his chest, and remained motionless as a statue until the adjutant, informed him that the pa :fade was formed. lie then, with great delib eration, dropped his arms, and with his right band gracefully waved the adjutant to his place. As soon as the adjutant passed him he drew his sword, passed it diagonally across his breast, and clutched it near the point with his left hand. The battalion. was then car ried through the manual, brought to an "order arms," the adjutant received an intimation that he 'could publish the orders and dismiss the parade. Now, the slightest deviation from. the established man ner of performing all these details would have brought down upon the head of the offender the wrath of the whole corps. Lieutenant John H. Winder (afterward lArigadier-Genc ral Winder, of the Confederate states army), whose training had been under a totally dif ferent system' returned to the Point, after an, absence of ten or twelve years, as assistant instructor of tactics. The lbst evening he took command of the parade he lounged out to his position and assumed an easy attitude; resting himself op one leg, his arms dropped by his side. Instantly a nmtmur began to run through the lines. The Lieuten ant thereupon. braced himself up and shouted "Attention:" Thiti for a moment produced quiet, and enabled the adjutant to proceed with the ceremonies; but the moment Winder drew his sword and plackd the blade anitinst the hollow of the skoulder instead • - of across his breast, and spread his feet asunder instead of having his heels together on the same line, the corps broke out into yells and laughter. and such was the uproar that nothing the worthy Lieuten6nt could do to restore order was of any avail. In vain he shouted,' "If the file closers don't do their duty, I'll arrest them by —." This only increi sed the commotion, for we were unaccustomed to . swearing on parade, and finally he was obliged to dismiss the parade, the different companies hallooing and shouting as they marched off. This de monstration of the cadets soon brought the.. Lieutenant's heels together, folded his arms on hishosom, and crossed his sword over his chest. Winder was at bottom a very kind-hearted man; there was a great deal of good in him, though at times he was rather fussy, and' "cussed" some, I)O - WN'• INDI There was one other -cadet at the Point with Me whom I must not omit is mention as a remarkable man, and one who has since been very conspicuous. I refer to Lucius B. Northrup, late Commissary-General of the Confederate States. When I recollect him at the Academy he was a handsome young man, with an olive complexion, long, black hair, very erect, and walked looking straight before him, neither to the right nor left deigning a glance. He would fight on the drop of a pin. His career in the army afterward was cut short by an untoward accident. He was sent by his commanding officer; somewhere out in Arkansas or jn the Indian territory, to arrest a notorious desperado. The general belief was that the man would resist and kill any officer attempting to arresthim, and Northrup having to ascend a ladder into a loft to get at the desperado, carried his pistol cocked. Unfortunately it went' off prematurely, and shot Northrup in the leg, permanently dis abling him. Northrup was always very fond of horses, and generally rode splendid ani mals. ln General Dodge's famous-expedition many years ago:on the Plains, and out into a. country that was then:an unknown land, and looked hpon as a sort of terra incevititoi Northrup was an officer in the expedition. Dodge's object was to negotiate with t 11111iiillEi and conciliate them. But as he ad vanced into the country the Indians all fled at his approach. The army would see them in the distance, on the tops of hills, watching their progress; but Mr. Redskin would'disap pear as the ."pale faces" came up. All hopes at negotiation seemed fruitless; you could not get a palaver with them; nothing would in duce them to come into our camp. Finally, Northrup told - General Dodge he would bring an Indian in. Ile rode a magnificent blooded mare of great speed and endurance. The "next morning before dayNorthrtip started out in advance of the column, and . made a long O (wn'. At the usual hour the column marched. As they advanced they saw an Indian on hiS fleet little pony, With his lance, watching their progress from the top of a distant idly Suddenly Mr. Redskin darted like. an arifiw from a bow down the side of the:hill, his little pony,-at full speed, running across the front of the column, and presently Northrup appeared after Mr. Indian with a sharp stick, and riding as hard' as he could go. Ile had got in the rear Of the Indian;and was going to catch him by running him down. The chase was very exciting, for we could see the whole of it. Finally the blooded mare of Northrup brought Mr. Indian's pony to a stand. Of course Redskin was frightened out of his wits at being thus run down and overtaken, and expected immediate death and scalping. Lieutenant „Northrup brought his prize study into camp, where. General Dodge, instead of killing, roasting and eating him, as he expected, - gave him plenty.to cat and think, made him presents, and then,atter explaining what he wanted with the Indians, let hint go. After that incident there was no difficulty in having interviews with the In dians, and General Dodge accomplished his negotiations. The Origin of Quotations ,-- The foll Owing is from Mr. Cozzens's neW book, "The Sayings of Dr. 13ushwhacker":_ "Mr. John Timmins, the broker, Rays of that stock, 'there is a .*heel within a wheel,', without giving 'Paradise Lost,' Young's 'Night Thoughts,' and the Prophet Ezekiel credit.for a phrase which may have saved him some thollsandfi; and when he tells his boon companions at the club, that as for his gat, who is-r ath deny her nothinger-inclined to be eXtrava- gent , , 'he would,' he does not say how much he owes to Samson Agonistes for the words he makes use of. •Nil hen lie reaches ,house, Mrs. Timmins takes bitri to task 'for cyining home at such an hour of the night, in such a state;' to which he replies in _ a gay and festive manner:—`My • • ear,, o err is human—to forgive, divine," 411 - inii Pope's essay on criticism; to which frs')< answers In a snappish wa', `Tim- Wrist; there is a medium imall things' (from 11 - orace) Mr. T., disliking the tone in , • /which this quotation - is delivered, `snatches fearful IjOy' --- .'(froni -- tlm 'Ode - on: - it - Distant Prospect of Eton College), by saying ho does not intend, in his house, to have `the gray mare prove the better horse,' (from Prior's . epilogue). ' This only adds 'fuel to the flame' (from Milton's `Samson), and Mrs. 'P. ob serves that if `we could only see ourselves as' others see us' (from Burns), it would be. better for some people; that ever since lie had; joined that club 'a change had come o'er the. spirit of her dream' (from Byron); that when she trusted her happiness -to him she hail `leaned upon a: broken reed' Mom Young' , `Night Thoughts', 111. and' ; 36, (0, and; winds up a long lecture with the'reflection that `evil communications corrupt good man..- nem' . (from Ist Corinthians, 15, :t3). This last expression exasperateS Mr. 'Timmins, and he asks Mrs. T. as he takes off his sus penders, `to whom sire alludes?' "If we turn from the frescoed bed chamber' of Mrs. Timmins to the whitewashed kitchen of Jim Skiver, the shoemaker, we find language not less elevated. Jim throws a leg of mutton upon the table, and says: 'There, Mary, I bad ` "to take Hobson's , choice" ' although Jim had neither read the 509th Spectator, nor knew that _Hobson's epitaph had been written by Milton. Jim, not `having the fear of Beaumont and-Fletcher' 'before his eyes' (Romans 3, 18), says, if he can 'catch that'man wot gave Bill Baxter a. black eye the day afore his weddin' "lamm" him' (‘King and No King.' act V., scene :3.) To which Mary replies: 'I thought somethin' would happin; "the course of true• love never did run smooth,"' ('Midsummer Night's Dream,' act 1., scene 1.), and Jim: responds, `That's so; and they've put off the weddin' so often that it seems kind o' "hopin' again' hope"' (Romans 4, 18). JiM thinks alter they've had a `snack' (Pope and Dry den), tkey had better go see the Siamese Twins; 'twins tied by nature; if they part, they die' (Young's `Night Thoughts'); puts on. `a bat not much the worse for wear' (`John Gilpin'), 'dashes through thick and thin' (same authority and liudibras), and after lie has seen the Siamese, requests to see the 'Lili putian King' (from `Gulliver's Travels). "How much language wouki be lefi n s rf these estrays were returned to their lawful. owners is a question. How could we con sole the dying if we had to give tip to Gay's twenty. seventh Able the phrase, 'while there is life there's hope?' and what could we say to the good in misfortune if we had to restore to Prior's ode, Nirtee is her own reward:' The-shopkeeper who ends his long list of limey articles with `and other articles too. tedious to mention,' makes use of a seuteef,e, as old as the Latin language, and we would take time point from Byron s hit at Coleridge if we were to replace in `Garrick's Epilogue on Leaving the Stage, 'a fellow-feeling makes, us wondrous kind.' So, too, must Gold sinith's Hermit lose 'man wants but little here I below,' if Young's 'Night Thoughts,' I V:, Arid its own property; and 'all the jargon of the