THE STAR OF THE NORTH IT. U. Jacoky, Proprietor*] VOLUME 10. ttmiE PUBLISHED EVERT WEDNESDAY BT WM. B. JACOBV, (Iftltc on Main St., 3rd Square below Market, TERMS Two Dollars annum If paid within •la months from the time of subscribing; two dollars and fifty cents if not paid within the your. No Putocription. received for a less period than six months; no discontinuance permitted until all ar rearages are paid, unless at the option of the editor. ADVERTI&INQ :—The rates of advertising will be as follows: *)no square of twelve lines, three times, - - $1 00 Every subsequent insertion, .••••••• 25 One square, three months, ------- -- 300 Bix months, - - 600 One year. - - 8 00 Business Cards of five lines, per annum, • • 800 1 (Cljoite poctrg. TELLING THE BEES* Here Is the place ; right over the hill Buns the path I took; Tou Ac© the gap in the old wall still, And the itepping-etone* in the ahallow brook. Thsre Is the house, with the gate red-barred, And the poplars tall; And the barn's brown length, and the cattle-yard, And the white horns tossing above the wall. There are the bee-hivos ranged in tho sun; And down by the brink Of the brook aro her poor Bowers, weod-o'crran* Pansy and daffodil, rose and pink. A year has gone, as the tortoiso goes, HeaTy and slow; And the same rose blows, and the same sun glows, And the same brook sings of a year ago. There's the same sweet elovor-smelt in the brecie; And the June sun warm Tangles his wings of fire in the trees, Setting, as then, over f ernsido farm. I mind me how with a lover's care. From my Snnday coat I brushed off the burrs, and smoothed my liatr, And eooted at the brook side my brow and throat. fiineo we parted, a month hod passed,— To love, a year; Down through the beeches, I looked at last On the litUe red gate and the well-sweep near. I can see It all now,—the slantwise rain Of light through the leaves, The sundown's blase on the wipdow-pane, The bloom of her roses under the eaves: Just the same as a month before,— The bonse and the trees, The barn's brown gablo the vino by the door, — Nothing changed but the hive of bees. Before them under thh garden wall, Forward and back, Went, drearily singing, the chore-girl small, Draping each hive with a shred of black. Trembling, I listened : the summer sun Had the ohill of snow; For 1 knew she was telling the beos of ono Gone on the Journey we all must go! Then I said to mysotf "My Mary weops For the dead to-day: Haply her blind old grandsiro sleeps The fret and the puin of his ago away." Jlut her dog whined low; on the doorway sill; With his cane %> his chin, The old man sat; and the chore-girl still Bang to the bees stealing out and in. And the song she singing ever sinoo In my car sounds on:— "tjtay at home, pretty bees, fly not honeej, - Mistress Mary Is dead ana gone T™ • A remarkable custom, brought from the Old Country, formerly prevailed in the rural districts of New England. On the death of a member of the family, the bees were at once informed of the event, and their hives dressed in mourning. This cere monial was supposed to be 4 neceseary to prevent the swarms from leaving their hives and seeking a new home. DEPTH AND TEMPERATURE OP THE OCEAN.— Lieut. Berryman, of the United States Navy, who was lately engaged in oceanic surveys, nays, in a late report, that five hundred miles north of Bermuda he found the great est reliable depth ever obtained, it being only four miles, and accompanying this were thermometrical observations of a sin gular character, indicating phenomena nev er before discovered or conceived, and which at this moment are an unsolved prob* lem to the scientific world. In a long series of experiments the temperature was indica ted as existing ten, fifteen and twenty de grees below freezing point. This may be owing to the defective instrument, but if so n consistency of error was preserved almost beyond the possibility of chance. A series oi experiments taken at various depths would indicate gradually decreasing tem perature, from ten degrees on the surface to but ten or fifteen degrees at a depth of one or two miles. Scientific men at home have pronounced tbis extreme frigidity of the waters to be one of the most unaccountable natural phenomena that has ever been ob served. SALE or CIRCASSIAN GIRLS.— The London Post thus speaks in a recent number of the traffic in Circassian girls in Turkey: "Per ceiving that when the Russians shall have reoccupied the Caucasus this trrffic in white slaves will be over, the dealers have redoub led their efiorts ever since the commence ment of the peace conference to introduce into Turkey the greatest posible number of women while the opportunity ol doing so lasted. They have been successful that uover perhaps at any former period was flesh so cheap as it is at this moment.— There is an adsolutc glut in the market, and dealers are obliged to throw away their goods, owing to tho extent of the supply, which, in many instances, has been brought by-steam, under the British flag. In former times, a "good m iddling" Circassian was was thought very cheap at JC 100, but at the present moment the same description of goods may he had for JES. tT When some of his courtiers endeav ored to excite Philip the Good to punish a prolate who had used him ill—"1 know," said he, "that I can revenge myself, but it is a fine thing to have revenge in one's pow er and not to use it." A GENTLEMAN presented a face-coller to the object of his adoration, and in a jocular way, "Do not let any one else rumple it." "No, my dear," said the lady, "I will take it off." BLOOMSBURG. COLUMBIA WEDNESDAY. APRIL 7. 1858. Bill Jrokins' Troubles on the First Night ol his Marriage. Bill Jenkins was a very modest man ; and although he had mingled with the world at barbacues, shooting-matches, bar-rooms and at many of the etcetera places where men may occasionally be found—yet he was modest, very—whenever placed in the company of ladies. He trembled when a pretty girl would speak to him, and fell like a culprit at the stand, when he was called upon to "see Miss So-and-so home." Bill could never explain or account for this sin gular timidity. He would sing, frolic, and be as wild as a rover when among men, but j a petticoat would unnerve him instantly. Lucy Ann Liggons, a young widow, had "set her cap" for Bill, and she was deter mined to head him or dio. Bill, to tell the truth, loved Lucy, and was miserable out of her company as he was timed in it—but as to "popping the question," that was impos sible. Lucy knit purses, hemmed hand kerchiefs, worked shirt bosoms and gave them to Jenkins, as well as several gold rings, but still Bill would not "propose."— Lucy declared to him repeatedly that she loved him, and was miserable when he was absent from her, and her happiness in life depended upon her being his wife—but Bill was dumb. Xt last Lucy was deter mined that he should "hear thunder," and when he next visited her, after some pre liminary soft talk on her part, she very af fectionately said: " Billy, my dear when are you going to ask me to marry you ? for I want to get my dress ready." Bill fainted on the spot, and hartshorn and water were applied for half an hour before he was finally restored. "What has been the matter, Miss Lucy?" "Oh, nothing much. You fainted when you were about to ask me to marry you— but I told you yes—and oh, how happy we will be when we are married! I will love you so dearly; and as you said next Thurs day, why, I am willing the wedding should be then—my dear Billy, how 1 do love you!" "I am willing, Miss Lucy," was all that Jcnks could articulate, while Lucy almost kissed him into fits. What a glorious vic tory ! Here we onght to stop, but justice to our narrative requires that we should proceod to the finale. The "next Thursday" had come, and Jenkins was trembling at the approach of the evening—something seemed to harrow up his mind very much, and to no friend even wouliUte communicate his dtfk dia*. treca. *■ W > "You are not afraid, certainly to go up and get married—why, to marry such a beautiful, charming, and intellectual being as Mrs. Liggons, 1 should wish that time would fly like news upon the electric tele graph line. Cheer up, Jenkins—cheer up " "Oh," replied Bill, "you don't know what distresses me, I can go up and get married, 1 that is easy enough, but there is one thing I j am satisfied I never will bo able to 'do in the world, unless Lucy will assist me."' ! "Explain yourself, my dear fellow," re-1 plied his friend, "and if 1 can with propriety I 1 will endeavor to render you comfortable." "But Jenkins could not explain—he dared not —it was his timidity—he saw the Rubi con before him, and he knew that he could not pass it—but he was determined to get married and trust luck and Lucy. The night came—and they were married All were merry;. the laugh, chat, the dance, made up a lively party until midnight—they commenced to disperse, and at one o'clock, j Bill Jenkins was left "solitary and alone" | in the hall. Lucy Ann had retired, and her j bridesmaids were of! in a distant room.— ; Bill Jenkins' waiters and friends had gone ; homo with the ladies. Bill was now at the i point where he thought his firmness would fail him. His situation was a peculiar one. He was not certain which was Lucy's room although he had been told—and even had he known he could not go to it. The watchman cried "past two o'clock," and yot Jenkins was still alone and appar ently engaged in reading an old Almanac, which by chance had been left in his coat pocket. An old female darky, who resided in the family had been prevailed upon by the ladies who had noticed Jenkins' bash fulness to show him the bedroom, and she accordingly introduced herself to him in as modest a style as she well could. " Mr. Jenkins," she replied, "its past two o'clock. "Oh yes—l knofr it, I'm going home in a tew minutes. Old woman, where's my hat?" "It's in Miss Lucy's room sir—you can get it there if you'll go in. Mr. Jenkins, why don't you go to bed ? Miss Lucy is there waiting for yon—don't be so modest— the ladies will laugh at you. Come with mo, and I'll show you the room, for 1 want to put out the lights and go to bed." The old woman seized hold of Jenkins and pulled him along until she got out of the hall, and his gaze was fixed for a mo ment on the entry door—but she was deter mined to put him in Miss Lucy's room, and after violent efforts succeeded. There he stood with the knob of the door in his hand —but the old darkey had been smart enough to lock the door on the outside. Lucy pre tended for some time to be asleep, but that sort of gammon \9buld not answer. At last she said: "My dear Billy, what is the matter with you ?" " I want my hat!" screamed Jenkins, and Lucy knowing his modesty, leaped out of the bed, and after caressing him for some tirao, Bi'ly went to bed with his clothes and boots on, and—trembled till mornir.g. How Jenkins subsequently managed "mat ters and things in general," can be known by application to his dear Lucy Ann. Reader, strange indeed as it may appear, there are many Jenkins all over the world ; but the free-masonry of wedded life draws the curtain before the eyes of the uninitia ted. Going to bed on the first night after marriage must be among the delicate situ ations in life. Ask your married neighbor how it was with him. We have no exper ience exactly in that way. REGULAR HABITS or INDUSTRY. —lndustry is ot little value unless it be regular. No good is gained by working by fits and starts. To avoid the formation of habits of irregularity, endeavor to go upon a fixed determinate plan, in reference both to your ordinary av ocation and your periods of study and re flection. To a steady perseverence in the plan you have laid down for yourself, add the virtue of punctuality. One half of the I people you meet with have no accurate idea on this important matter. They make life a play, and what is truly rediculous, ' many of them perform their parts very bad- ! ly. Instead of being punctual, they care not how they keep their own engagements, and thus punctual men get ahead of them. Many complain that they are prevented from being punctual by the multiplicity of their engagements. But this, in most in stances, is a delusion; all men may be punctual to the extent which is necessary to gain them a reputation for regularity, if they choose. The most trifling actions that affect a man's credit are to be regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, says Dr. Franklin, or at nine at night, heard by a creditor, makes him easy six months longer; but if he sees you at a billard table, or hears your voice at a tavern when you should be at your work, he sends for his money the next day. WHY MOUNTAINS ARE COLD.— It is a curl-1 ous scientific fact that the atoms oi air, as we ascend, aro at greater distance from each other. If the distance between any two atoms is diminished, they give out heat, or j render it sensible; whereas if the distance between them be increased, they store it' away The upper strata are sensibly colder j than the lower, not because the atoms have j less heat, but because the heat is diffused l through a larger space when the atoms \ are further apart. Oneproud of air at < the level of the sea, within the tropics, j GNAGR.BE RAID to CONTAIN NR> ~ORO, 1.0.1 ! thvt the same weight at the top of the ' highest mountain, perpetually, covered with snow. It is for this reason that the same wind which is warm in the valley, becomes colder as it ascends the sides of the moun- j tain. The diminishing pressure allows the air to expand and store away its heat. It is,' therefore, not the snow on the top of the ' mountanis which cools the air, but it is the rarity of the air which keeps the snow itself Irommelting. As a general law, the decrease of temperature amounts to 1 degree, Fahren heit, for every three hundred feet in perpen-' dicular height. A YOUNO GOURMAND. —The New Bedford j Mercury says, it has recently been made acquainted witlt facts in relation to a jnve- j nile of this city, whoso eating propensities exceed even those of Dicken's "fat boy."— He is thirteen years of age, well formed and weighs eighty pounds. Here is a bill of faro which ho entirely demolished a few j days since byway of a lunch, viz: 2 quarts iof beet soup, 6 3-4 lbs. beef, 12 biscuits, ! and a quantity of citron; having taken as ; a preparatory, half a pound of raisins, and j four green apples. On another occasion he j devoured two large sausages, raw; 1 lb- I head cheese, 1 pint of scollops, raw, and four apples, before taking bis regular din ner, which he enjoyed as usual. Byway of ordering lunches, he has been known to make way with, in two days, 100 dough nuts, 50 one cent cakes, and four mince pies. A seven pound turkey barely sup plied him for dinner. He has 110 fondness for tea or coffee, and never drinks water at his meals. Unlike Dicken's "fat boy," he is not given to somnolency, and lias never been caught napping over a "mutton-pie." DIRECT TRADE OF VIRGINIA. —The Hon. John Y. Mason, our minister to France, has written to the President of the James River •nd Lanawha Company, describing in very complimentary terms the signal ability and success with whinh the Hon. YVm. Ballard Preston had fulfilled his mission to France in regard to a direct tiade with Virginia. It appears that an arrangement has been made with the Orleans Railroad Company by which a line of steamers is to be run be tween San Nazarie, at the mouth ol the Loire, and Norfolk, in Virginia. Judge Ma son states that at the mouth of the Lorie, "the French Government is coustructing the most magnificent artificial harbor in the world. Opening to the ocean, a ship sailing between that point and the Chesapeake Bay avoids tho channel, and will find her route shorter by a considerable time than between Havre and the same point." He adds that the "Orleans Company has a large capital is the best managed concern in France, and owns a net work of railroads which cover one-third of tho Empire, connecting Paris with the ocean, and connecting with other lines to Switzerland, Itily and Germany. T3V A sailor who was beating his wife, was asked it he did not know she was the weaker veasel? "If she is, she ought not to carry so much sail," replied Jack, Tralli tad Rlfht Clod aid oar Coaatrj. AMUSING.—A few miles DeVow Poughkeep sio, New York, there now lives, and has lived for several years past, a worthy cler gyman. a man however, very short in stat ure. Upon a certain Sunday about eight years ago ; this clergyman was invited by the pastor of a church in that village, to fill his pulpit for the day. The invitation was accepted, and Sunday morning saw Mr. in the pnlpit. Now it happened that the pulpit was a very high one, and ac cordingly nearly hid the little clergyman from view. However, die congregation out of respect managed to keep their counte nances, and with over-pious faces, seemed religiously anxious for the text. Tliey were not obliged to wait long, for a nose and two little eyes suddenly nppeared over the pul pit, and a squeaking tremulous voice pro claimed in usual tones the text: "Be of good cheer, it is 1; he not alraid." A general roar of laughter followed the announce ment—the clergyman became confused, and turned all sorts of colors. Many in the gen eral uproar left the church and it was a long time before the ministet was enabled to proceed with his sermon, so abruptly bro | ken off. Aflernoon came, and the little man, standing on a foot-stool had a fair view of his audience. The text was announced in due form. "A little while and ye shall see me, and again a little while and ye shall not see me." In the course of his sermon he repeated his text with great earnestness, and stepping back lost his elevated footing and disappeared from all his hearers. IMPORTATION or FRUIT TREES.— Trees are imported in bales and cases, chiefly from France, England, and Scotland; and seeds are invoiced by the ton. There aggregate value for the season it is difficult to calcu late; but, as the nurserymen chiefly import through a single agency in this city, some approximation may be made. The largest nurseries in the United States are in the vicinity of Rochester, where there are some thing like 2,000 acres of young fruit trees in process of culture. A single firm has as many as 400 acres. At Syracuse there is a nursery of 300 acres, and very large ones are to be found in nearly all the principal western cities—even in Des Moines and Dubuque, which were recently in the heart of the wilderness. The destruction of trees by the severity of the two last winters and the raqid settlement of western lands, but more than all the encouragement of the cul ture of domestic fruit afforded by the for mation of numerous agricultural societies throughout the country, hqve given an im ,JU>I u> tludjSu)oinesF'."' l lhrts .arlilx unpre cedented. * T T r A GRAHIC PICTURE.— The following, from one of the Hong Kong papers, furnishes a brief, but truly grahic picture of the attack upon the city of Canton: "During the brief pauses, everything was still as death in the City—no shouting, or sounds of confusion ; not a human being was to be seen either on the city side or on Honam, but it seemed as if the stern from of the Destroying Angel was crouching over the fated and unhappy city, awating his victims into silence. The shells were whirling through the air, their track marked by fizzing of their fiery fuses, twinkling like stars during their revulsions, till at last, arriving at their destinations, there was a flash and an explosion which told how accurately and fearfully these engines of destruction do their work. Some of these shells reaclied-even to Cough's Fort, and fragments were found there the following day. The rockets, too, seemed to be hissing about in every direction, and the elipticat shell from the French ships caused no little astonishment as tliey hurried through the air with a noise not unlike that of an immense humming top. The scene was one replete with awe, and dreadfel must have been the sufferings of the poor people thus made to answer for the sins of their rulers." | TF THE LITTLE BLACE BONV.— "Chon, : you rcckiememper tat liddle plack bony 1 1 pye mit the bottler next veek !" "Yah, vot of him!" "Nothing, only I dinks I get cheated buddy pad." "So?" "Yah. You see, he is blind mit bote legs, unt lame mit von eye- Den ven you gits on him to rite he rares up pehint and kicks up pefore so vur ser as shuck mule. 1 dinks 1 dake him a liddle rite yesdertay, und so sooner as 1 straddle his pack he gommence dat vay, shust like a vakin peam on a boatsteam; unt ven he gits tone, I vas so mixed up mit everydinks, 1 tints myself zitting arount pacvards, mit liis dail in my haunts vor de pridie." "Veil, vot pe you a going to done mit him ?" "Oh, I vixed him petter as cham up. I hitch him m te cart mit his tail vere his het ought to pe; den I gif him about dozen cuts mit a hitecow ; he starts to go, put so soon he see te cart before he makes packwards. Berty soon he stumbles pehint, un sits town on his haunches, unt looks like he feels purty shamed mit'- himself. Den I dakes him de rite way, unt ha goes off, so goot as anydody's pony." FULLFILUNO DUTY.— It is pleasant and comfortable to pursue those paths, however rough and thorny, in which we feel assured the Lord has commanded us to walk. How joyfully is everything undertaken, begun and accomplished, that comes to our hearts as a Divine Commission. We then run and are sot weary; we walk, and are not Jaint. NEVER SAY FAIL. BT CHARLES SVTAIN. Kep pushing—'tis wiser Than sitting aside, Sand dreaming and sighing, And waiting the tide; In life's earnest battle, only prevail Who daily march onward And never say fail. With an eye open, A tongue that is not dumb, And a heart that will never _ To sorrow succumb, You'll battle and conquer, Though thousands assail; How strong and how mighty Who never say fail 1 Ahead, then, keep pushing, And elbow your way, Unheeding the envious, All asses that bay ; All obstacles vanish, All enemieß quail In might of their wisdom Who never say fail. In life's rosy morning, In manhood's fair pride, Let this be your inotto Your footsteps to guide; Iji storm and in sunshine, Whatever assail, We'll onward and conquer, And never say fail ! FORCE or HABIT. —In an established chuch in a village in a neighboring parish, says tho Arbroath Guide, a few Sundays ago, one of the Bonifaces of the place fell last asleep, a circumstance which nobody regarded as very extraordinary. Soon, however, he began to snore, to the very considerable scandal of the congregation, when an elder behind edeavored to rouse him from his slumbers by nudging him with his elbow. After a lime this process had its effect; the man ol the gill-stoup awoke, but not alto gether to the consciousness of his position, lor leisurely opening his eyes, staring wildly about him, he exclaimed, in a voice sufficiently audible, "Coming, sir coming!" The preacher paused, the congregation tit tered, and the newly-awakened man gaped, and looked vacantly around, quite unable to assign any reason for the excitement PREVENTION OF PITTING IN SMALL POX Mr. Stariin, the senior surgeon in the Gurney Hospital for diseases of the skin, has communicated to the Medical Times a very importent plan, which he has adopt ed during the last fourteen years, for preven ting pitting in small pox, and which lie states has always proved successful. The plan consists in applying the acelum can lliaciiles. or any vaijjoaliiijj fluij, ly. means of a camel hair brush to the apex of each spot or pustule of the disease on all the ex posed surface of the body, until blistering is evident by the whiteness of the skin in the parts subjected to the application, when the fluid producing it is to be washed off with water of thin arrow root gruel.— The pain attending the application of the vesicating fluid is very slight and transient. A Cow AND CALF. —A certain gentleman j was telling a story, a few days ago, how a sleigh had run against a cow, knocked up her trotters, and upset her into the vehicle. "Were you in the sleigh at the same time ?" asked one of the auditors. "Yes," was the response—"What of that?" "Why nothing only, that then there was j a cow and calf together." GIVE HIM UP. —"Are you an Odd Fellow ?" " No sir, I've been married for a week." " I mean do you belong to the Order ol Odd Fellows ?" "No, no; I belong to the Order of Mar ried Men." " Mercy, how dumb! Are you a Mason?" I " No, 1 am a carpenter by trade." " Worse and worse; are you a Son of . Temperance ?" " Bother you, no; lam a son of Mr. John Gosling." The queerist went away. IT" The Sunday Atlas, in a fit ol revolu tionary enthusiasm, says: " Hurrah for the girls of '76 !" " Thunder," cries a New Jersey paper "that's to darned old. No, no—hurrah for the girls of 17 !" THE WAY HE DIED. —The ne plus ultra of ludicrous epitaphs is to be found on a grave-stone in Oxford, N. H., as follows: "To all my friuds I bid adieu; A more sudden death you never knew : As I was leading the old mare to drink, She kicked and killed me quicker'n wink." IT An exchange tells of an editor who went soldiering and was chosen Captain. One day at parade, instead of giving the orders ' Front face, three paces forward," lie exclaimed, "Cach two dollars a year, in advance." CF- We saw a druuken man lately trying to get a watchman to arrest his own shadow. His complaint was that an ill-loking scoun drel kept following him. CF"A young man without money, among the ladies, is like the moon on a cloudy night he can't'shine. Ef A drunkard upon his death-bed de manded a glass of water before receiving divine consolation. "Upon one's death bed," he observed, "it is but right to be re conciled with our mortal enemy 1" 0* Honesty ought to shino through and illustrate the whole sphere of our astion. DUELLING GRO The March number of Harper') Magazine contains a history of this fatal duelling ground, from which we take the following account of the Mason and M'Carty duel, which occurred in 1819: MASON AND M'CARTY. One of the most desperate of those mel ancholy encounters which have made this place so memorable Was that of tho 6th of February, 1819, between Gen. Armistead T. Mason, previously a Senator in Congress from Virginia, and Col. John M. M'Carty, a citizen of the same State. The difficulty between them had existed some time. It originated in that most prolific source of personal enmity, poitics. The parties were second cousins; but notwithstanding this, their quarrel appears to have been prose cuted with an animosity as unsparing as their relationship was intimate. Several months previous to tho final meeting, a vi olent altercation liadPtaken place between them at Leesburg, in consequence of Ma son's having questioned M'Carty"s right to vote. M'Carty at once challenged Mason, but in his challenge he prescribed the terms and conditions of tho duel. This dictation of terms Mason would not submit to; and consequently by the advice of his friends he declined the challenge. At the same time, however, he sent word to M'Carty that lie was ready to accept a regular chal lenge, in a proper form. M'Carty paid no attention to the message, but forthwith pub lished Mason as a coward. Mason then sent a challenge to M'Carty, which M'Carty declined on the ground of cowardice in Ma son, as shown by his refusal to fight in the first instance. At this juncture a number of Mason's friends united in a letter, begging liirn to take no further notice of M'Carty.— Although Mason was burning under a sense of the wrongs he had received, he yielded to their entreaties, and the affair was to all appearances at an end. Some months afterward, however, while riding to Richmond in the stage, with a gentleman of high military and political standing, he was told that he ought to chal lenge M'Carty again. This he decided to do as soon as he reached Richmond. It was in vain that his friends now endeavored to dissuade him. He would not listen to their appeals. In the language of the card sub sequently published by them, "he had re solved on challenging M'Carty, in opposi tion to all the advice they gave, and all the efforts they made to dissuade him." To free himself from the embarrassments and restraints imposed by the laws of Virginia j in regard to ( duelling, or influenced, per haps, by a determination not to violate her j statues while holding his commission, as j General of Militia, he resigned, made his ; will, and addressed M'Carty an invitation j to the field. In this note, whidh, better than j any description portrays the spirit in which | the controversy was conducted, he says: "I j have resigned my commission for the spe-1 cial and sole purpose of fighting you; and j lam now free to accept or send a chal-1 lenge and to fight a duel. The public mind i has become tranquil, and all suspicion of | the further prosecution of our quarrel hav- j ing subsided, we can now terminate it with out being arrested by the civil authority, and without exciting alarm among our friends. ... I am extremely anxious to ter minate at once and forever this quarrel My friends and are fully authori zed to act for me in every particular. Upon receiving from you a pledge to fight, they are authorized and instructed at once to give the challenge for me, And to make im- > mediately every necessary arrangement for the duel, on any terms you may prescribe." This note, which fully betrays Mason's inflexibility of purpose, and which, it is stated, was never read by M'Carty, was written before any interview had taken place between General Mason and his sec onds, and was inclosed to tliern in a letter containing positive instructions for their government. He writes them: "You will present the enclosed communication to Mr. John M'Carty, and tell him at once that you are authorized by me to challenge him, on the event of his pledging himself to fight. If he will give the pledge, then 1 desire that you will instantly challenge him in my name to fight a duel with me Agree to any terms that he may propose, and to any distance—to thrco feet, his pretended favorite distance—or to three inches, should his impetuous and rash courage prefer.— To any species ol fire-arms—pistols, mus kets, or rifles—agree at once." Acting under these instructions, Mason's seconds called on M'Carty as the bearers of his challenge. M'Carty again retused to receive any communication from Mason, for the same reason as before. A violent personal altercation then took place be tween M'Carty and one of Mason's seconds, tfle latter insisting strongly that the chal lenge should be received and accepted, and the former obstinately declining to receive it. The quarrel became so violent that the parties were near fighting. At last, Ma son's seconds having threatened to post M'Carty as a coward unless he accepted the challenge, M'Carty agreed to fight. It would appear from this, that though Ma son's friends in general, and oven one of his seconds, strove to preyeut the duel, it was forced upon M'Carty by the other. If the spirit which animated Mason in this unfortunate controversy was headlong and uncompromising, that which impelled M'Carty was apparently none the loss so.— It is said he would consent to no meeting that afforded any possibility for the escape of either. Reckless of his own life, be determined that if he lell his antagonist [Two Dollars NUMBER 13. should full wiUi html H. , only consent to meet Mason on such terms as must, in all probability, resnlt in the de struction of both. With this object in view, in accepting the challenge his first proposal is said to have been that he and Mason should leap togeth er from the dome of tliat Capitol. This was declined as wholly unsanctioned by the Code. He next proposed "to fight on a barrel of powder," "which was objected to," says the seconds, l as not according with established usages, as being without example, and as calculated to establish a dangerous precedent." He next proposed to fight with dirks in a hand to-hand en counter. This was also declined for a like reason. His final proposition was to fight with muskets, charged with buck shot, at ten feet distance. These terms were hard ly less calculated to insure a fatal result to both than those which had been previously objected to; but, desperate as they were, since they were clearly within Mason's letter of instructions, and perhaps were not considered "as calculated to establish a dan gerous precedent," they were finally, with some modifications, accepted. The dis tance, it was agreed, should be twelve feet, instead of ten, and a single ball was sub stituted for buck-shot. In extenuation of the unusual terms of combat proposed by M'Carty, it is said that he was exceedingly averse to fighting his cousin, and desired to escape the acceptance of the challenge, if he could possibly do so without incurring the imputation of cow ardice; and that he could see no other way of escape than by naming such terms as Mason's friends were not likely to agree to. Mason appears to have' been aware of his desire to avoid a conflict; for in his corres pondence he soems to have apprehended some difficulty in extracting from him a pledge to fight. This pledge, it seems, finally proposed did not have tlie designed effect of causing them to be rejected. On Friday evening, the sth of February, the parties drove out to Bladenburg. accom panied by their friends that they might be convenient to the ground on the following morning. The intervening time was spent lin completing their preparations. One man remembers that his father a blacksmith, was called up at midnight to repair one of the muskets. He suspected the purpose for which the weapon was to be unsed, and sturdily refused to mend it. His scruples, however, were finally quieted, and he was induced to exercise his craft upon it by be i ing told that it was to be used in a shooting ! match that was to take place the following • day. | And so it was; but the worthy black ! smith little knew the stake that was to be { shot lor. j On Saturday morning, the 6th of Febru j ary, 1819, at 8 o'clock, the parties met. The ■ contemplated meeting, it is said was gener | ally known at Bladensburg, and many of the citizens aocompanied or followed them jto the ground to witness the encounter. It j was snowing violently at the time. ! The ground selected for the combat waa : not tho usual path near the road, but anoth er and similar path just around the point of tho hill on the right, about two hundred yards from the bridge. Mason had on, at the time a large overcoat with long skirts; i M'Carty, notwithstanding the severity of the | weather, presented himself stripped to his i shirt, and with his sleeves rolled up, that ' he might have the free use of his arms. All | the preliminaries having been arranged, the i parties were placed—M'Carty facing up the j brook, and Mason down—and then at the I word, with the muzzles of their muskets ' almost in contact, both fired. Mason fell dead, his life literally blown out of him.— M'Carty was severely wounded, his antag onist's ball entering his left wrist, and tear ing its way through the muscles of his arm toward his shoulder. That both were not killed seems little less than a mericle. Mason's musket is said to have caught in the skirt of his long overcoat, as he wan in the act of raising it to his shoulder; and to this accident, as it unsettled his aim, it is thought M'Carty was indebted for his life. Mason never spoke Irom the time ho took his place upon the ground. He lay nearly as lie fell. On his person were found letters to his relatives and friends in regard to the disposition of his body in case of his death. 1 nreo distinct wounds were discov ered in his left side, besides one in his left elbow. This circumstance at first gave rise to a suspicion of foul play on the part of M'Carty; but by a postmortem examination it was ascertained that the ball had struck the elbow bone, and had been split into thiee parts, each of which had entered the body. These parts ware weighed, and were found to correspond nearly with the weight of the ball that had been agreed upon. The seconds of General Mason conclude their account, published at the time, by saying that the affair, although fatally, was honorably terminated," and that the deport ment of the friends of M'Carty, "throughout the whole business was correct." For several days afterward the spot ex hibited melancholy evidences of this terri ble conflict. The ground was dark with gore, anu the bushes, for some distance around, were bespattered whh blood, and hung with shreds of clothing and fragments of flesh, blown from the body of the slain by tllft fnrne <*/ iUe vn|r|c/oluu. M'Carty recovered lrom tho wound in his arm, but never from the more fatal woond inflicted upon his mind by this unnatural 1 encounter. He had escaped death, but he could not escape the recollection of that i fearful field. If his after life can be taken as furnishing any indication of his feelings, ' bitterly did he repent that he had been in -1 duced to swerve from his original determi • nation not to engage in this contest. * , have been told, hy those who knew htm. ' that frofitftitat hour ha was changed, and 3 duelling are provided with ' so terrible as those he suffered of his existence.