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- jno. i. miller & co., Proprietors, j Ail Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. | lewis k. oeist, PuMidur. * VOL. 3. YOBKVILLE, S. O., THURSDAY, MARCH 12, 1857. ^O. 10. Cljiricf |jffdrg. THE UNSEEN BATTLE-FIELD. There :s an unseen battle-field In every human breast, Wl?ere too opposing forces meet, But where they seldom rest. That field is veiled from mortal sight, 'Tis only seen by one, Who knows alone where victory lies, When each day's fight is done. One army clusters strong and fierce, Their chief of demon form; His brow is like the thunder cloud, His voice the bursting storm. His captains. Pride, and Lust, and Hate, Whose troops watch night and day, Swift to detect the weakest point, And thirsting for the fray. Contending with ims migmy iuivc In but a little band ; Yet there with an unquailing front, Those warriors firmly stand. Their leader is of God-like form, Of countenance serene; And glowing on his nnked breast A simple cross is seen. His captains, Faith, and Hope, and Lore, Point to that wondrous sign ; And gazing on it, all receive Strength from a source divine. They feci it speaks a glqrious truth, A truth as great as sure, That to be victors they must learn 10 10VI', CUUUUC, cuuuiv. -9 That faith sublime, in wildest strife, Imparts a holy calm ; For every deadly blow a shield, For every wound a balm. And when they win that battle-field, -* Past toil is quite forgot: The plain where carnage once had reigned, Becomes a hallowed spot. "r A spot where flowers of joy and peace Spring from the fertile sod; And breathe the perfume of their praise On every breeze?to God. % J?tonj of ?eal fife. From the Saturday Evening Mail. KATE DOUGLASS. CHAPTER I. , "She walks in beauty, like the night, Ot cloudless climes and s?nrry skies, And all that's good, and best, and bright, Meet in her aspect and her eyes." Well might this have been said of Kate Douglass, for a more bewitching beauty was seldom if ever seen. Her eyes were of the darkest hazel hue, whose ever varying expression wore the impress of her soul. Her hair, of the jettest black, she wore it simply parted over her forehead, and tastefully arranged, displaying the finely moulded features to the best advantage. She was a tall, splendid figure, and moved with a queenly grace. She was the last of the noble and wealthy family of Douglasses, and the immense estates belonging to the different branches of the family were concentrated in her. At the time when our history commences she was but eighteen, had just completed her extensive education, and was one of the most accomplished ladies in London. As the sole heir of a wealthy family, she was the most brilliant star iu the large circle in which she moved, and as such 1? ?n was uuurtcu uuu uuuciuu uj an. xj\x%? p*w the ardent vows and vehement expressions of her wealthy suitors could win the heart ^ of our fuirjheroine?she, too, well knew that her wealth was the greatest attraction, and deprived of that, she would be deprived of their adorations. Kate Douglass possessed, beside her many attractions, a heart of uncommon loveliness, and virtues of the rarest quality. Iler warm and affectionate heart was disgusted with the cold formalities of a city life, and she determined to seek in some retired spot that happiness which a child raised in the city ** knows little of, and where she would be loved for her self alone. CHAPTER II. But come with me, gentle reader, to the retired village of N , about one hundred miles from London. Just in the outskirts of the village you will see, half hidden by the foliage which surrouuds it, a beautiful white cottage. Let us, without an intrusion, take a peep within. There, seated in the midst of a youthful group of happy faces, is a young lady whose face I think is somewhat familiar... Yes, this is Kate Douglass; when we last saw her, she was the belle of the highest circle in London, admired and flattered by all. She carried her determination into effect, and sought happiness in training the minds of a few innocent girls, and devoting her time and talents to their education. Although in this new sphere of useful ness and natural worth she comes nearly to f her idea of happiness, yet the reality is not within her grasp. There is a great real want in every human heart, which is alone to be satisfied with true love. "Love is our beings end and aim." So fearful was Kate of losing this best of Heaven's gifts, by the deception of some heartless fortune hunter, that she decided to lay aside all the advantages of fortune and affluence, and depend alone on her natural gifts and graces of character to attact aud secure the affections of one who was destined to become her future husband. Under a disfigured name, attired in the simple dress suited to her situation?which cannot, however, conceal the surpassing beauty and loveliness?she has wou the hearts of all who know her by her aniability and gentleness. Her praises, and the recounting of her many aud generous acts, is the unremitting theme of her loving and beloved pupils. CHAPTER III. In a splendid mansion in London, in a richly furnished apartment, sat a brother and sister, clad in the deepest mourning. Near them lay an open book, from which the * young gentleman had been reading to his ! little sister, but seeing the tears stealing < down her pale cheek, he had stopped read- < ing to cheer her lonely heart with such words j of tenderness and love as can only be spoken i by an older brother to an only and orphan I sister. Though few were the years that had < passed over the heads of these young people, ] yet their path through life had been one of i sorrow and bereavement. Scarcely had they i followed to the grave one endeared parent, i when they were called to perform the same 1 sad office for the other, which had left them ! alone in the world. Edward Leo had all the advantages of the ? best education which England could afford. < He possessed all the noble qualities which < makes a gentleman both in heart and mind. 1 All the fioer sensibilities of his nature had : been guarded and cherished by an over : watchful and affectionate mother, and when i deprived of her guidance, he could not forget her kind counsels; they had made a last- 1 ing impression on his memory. Such was i the character of one in whose sole guidance i was left his sister Lucy, now nine years old; and though surrounded by all that heart i could wish, with respect to wealth and luxu- I ry, he still longed for one more capable than 1 himself of instructing her young and tender J mind. 1 lie did not wish her to be reared amidst < all the temptations of a city life, as he too t well knew the effect it would have upon her simple heart. He had heard of a school in t the village of N , not far distant from f London, and as it was spoken of in the high- i est terms, he thought that would be a suita- i ble place for his sister, wherh she might have < the advantages not only of pursuing her studies, but of regaining her health, which j had been so much weakened by such trying i circumstances. But leaving them to make 1 all necessary preparations, we will change the scene. CHAPTER IV. ( The arrival of a new scholar is always a 1 theme of excitement, but especially would t it be in such a school as the one of which we have spoken before. 1 Miss Brendan, or, in other words, 31iss 1 Kate Douglass had finished her daily routine '< of school duties, and retired to her own room t for the purpose of reading and spending a t few hours alone. Her little band of girls were playing on the lawn, when their atten- 1 tion was attracted by a large traveling car- t riage which was coming up the avenue. i Miss Brendan had scarcely become inter- \ estcd in her book, when a bright eyed little ( girl, the pet of the circle, opened the door, a and exclaimed. < "Oh! Miss Kate, there is a traveling car- 1 riage before the door, containing a gentleman c and little girl, both dressed in deep mourn- 1 ing. Oh ! don't you think she is a new girl? * But, perhaps, her mother is dead. Poor 1 little creature. If 3be is, you will be a moth- A er to her. Won't you, Miss Kate? You ? are so kind and good to every one." One of Kate's sweetest smiles wreathed her face, as she imprinted a kiss on the 1 glowing cheek of the little pet, and sent her ' down stairs, where she soon followed, with * her usual grace and dexterity of manners. I After the usual preliminaries, she consent- y ed to take the little Lucy as one of her pu- * pils. Mr. Lee, charmed with Miss Bren- s dan's manners, was satisfied that with her his little sister would find a friend, and be happily situated in her little circle, and bidding her good night, he promised to call ^ soon again." When Mr. Lee left his sister, he thought that he had never seen a more bewitching face, combined with so much dignity of manners, as that presented by Miss Brcn- dan. I She could not have been reared in this j place so far from the world. Her beauty j and grace alone fit her for a higher station in life than that of a schoolmistress in so sc- ^ eluded a spot as this, thought he to himself. t It is a pity that one so well fitted to grace J the highest circles in society should waste j her charms in such seclusion. The image I of Miss Brendan could not be effected from ' his mind ; and even, when sleep visited his * pillow, her graceful form still hovered near him. But to return to little Lucy. When . her brother left her, a feeling of her lone- , liness so overcame her that she could uot restrain her tears. Kate, thinking it best to . allow her to give full vent to her feelings, left her alone for a few moments, and then . \ returning, with her usual kindness, told her not to feel lonely, as she would find a friend | in her, and loving companions in her pupils. She soou became c.dm, and, taking the hand of her teacher, accompanied by the pupils, they went to a lake near the house, where a ' delightful sail in the boat brought smiles to her face again; and, as if catching the ini 1 ?i i x, leuiiuu Ul IIU|ipiUUAd 1IUII1 Uiyjv ill UUIJU IIUI , I J she soon became one of the merriest of the I party; and when they returned to the house, i her eye sparkled brighter, and her cheeks 1 | wore a richer hue thau they had for many ! mouths. Miss Brendan advised Lucy to rise early ( in the morning and take a walk, as she | thought the fresh morning air would be bene- j licial to her, promising to be her companion ; and, in compliance with her promise, , she tapped lightly at the door of her little charge, and before the sun had shed its first j bright rays upon the earth, they were pre- , pared for thoir walk, Lucy enjoyed it very much, as every thing was new to hey. They had not gone far when they met Mr. Lee.? Lucy was delighted to see her brother, and in compliance with Miss Brendan's polite invitation, he accompanied them to the cot- ( tage aud breakfasted with them. Kate presided at the table with so much ease and cordiality of manners, that she completely . won the admiration of Mr. Lee, and he thought how happy it would make him to raise her true sphere in society. , Mr. Lee was fearful that the paiu of separation would be too much for ihe feeble state of Lucy's health, and determined to I spend several weeks in thevilliage. He became, therefore, a frequent visiter at the jottage, and accompanied his sister and Miss Brendan, not only in their walks, but n many excursions on horseback through ;he blooming country. being every day more jntangled in the net spread for hini by Cupid. But their happiness could not stay the reality of time; and Mr. Lee soon began to realize that the time was rapidly approaching when he must return to the city, and not antil then was he aware that the presence of Miss Kate was essential to his happiness. One evening he called as usual to see his iister, but finding her prevented from being iown stairs from a slight indisposition, he 3etermined to take advantage of the opportunity to open bis heart to Miss Kate. But is our readers arc doubtless familiar with such scenes, we will pass this over, leaving it to the imagination. Suffice it to say, that Kate was happy to inrl find tclio wonlrl love her for her self alone. ind she determined to allow Mr. Lee to reBain in ignorance of her real station in life. Before his return to the city, it was arranged that their marriage should take place ;he following spring at the white cottage, tvhere they had just known each other.? Kate informed her pupils that this was to be aer last session, as she intended to make a jhange in her course of living at the end of ;hat time. They were all very much distressed at his intelligence. But she soon brought the 'miles to their faces again, by promising to /isit them frequently, and saying that she ntended giving a party at the cottage at the dose of the term. Little Lucy was almost beside herself with oy when she became acquainted with the ?act, that her dear Miss Kate was so soon to )e her own sister. CHAPTER V. Winter passed away without any material change to the inhabitants of the cottage, but :hey all looked forward with anxious hearts ;o spring. At length the close of the season drew icar, and the girls eagerly anticipated the ong promised party. Their relations were irriving from all parts of the country to take ;hem home; and they, too, were to share in tie testivities 01 tne occasion. The eventful evening came, and Miss Brendan, taking several of the largest girls ;o her own room, dressed them all alike in vhitc, suited to the scene iu which they vere to act as bridesmaids. She, too, was Iresscd with the greatest simplicity; but in iddition, a snowy veil fell iu graceful folds >ver her beautiful shoulders. The girls were ill curious enough to know what was to be lone, but Kate looked very wise and said lothing. Little Lucy could with difficulty tcep the secret with which she had been enrusted, until they proceeded down stairs, vhere they were met by 3Ir. Lee and severil gentlemen, wbo had accompanied him 'rom the city, who, taking Miss Kate, and caving the gentlemen to select a lady from he group of astonished girls, entered the paror, where a minister was waiting to perform be ceremony, and before the amazed company half understood the joke, Miss Kate vasMrs. Lee. Again we will let the curain fall, as it would uot be very pleasant to ;ec the parting of Kate with her scholars. CHAPTER VI. Come with us now to the same house in London, where we first introduced Mr. Lcc md his sister. The house of mourning is now turned into :he house of rejoicing?the splendid saloous ire brilliantly illuminated, and the wealth ind beauty of the city are collected there.? But the brightest of the gay throng is Kate, rhough her lovely face seemed somewhat III ? X ...X 1 ] ?c I ainiiiar iu auiuu, jut iiuuu uiuuuicu ui uci jeing the beautiful Kate Douglass whose presence had added such charms to their so;iety, and whose strange absence had been so unaccountable. All were anxious to kDow he true history of the lovely bride of Mr. Lee; and the numerous balls and soirees jiveu in honor of her presence, added to his jride iu being the possessor of so rich a jowil. Time passed rapidly away, when one evenng, in the third week of their married life, Mrs. Lee asked her husband's company in a ide to visit the Douglass Park. The evenng was a beautiful one, and .Mr. Lee enterained bis wife and the joyous little Lucy villi an account of the sudden and strange lesertion of the beautiful heiress of the imnense estate, lie had scarcely finished, vhen they arrived at the splendid mausion, iud were ushered into a superbly furnished wrlor, where Kate, throwing herself into a . hair, and laughing, as she only could laugh ;aid, "And how would you like to see this same iciress, Mr. Lee?" "Extretnelv, but I had not heard of her return." "She is here to my certain knowledge," ?aid Kate; and making a polite courtesy to Mr. Lec, said, "Allow me to introduce you 0 Miss Douglass, now Mrs. .Lee. You hare wrought me to your city home, permit me iow to present you mine." Before Mr. Lec could reply, Kate continled, "I have had my day of happiness as Miss Douglass and Miss Brendan, and anticipate 1 happy conclusion as Mrs. Lee." A Lkcal Opinion.?One of the most listinguished and eloquent Boston lawyers, ivhile entering his cold bed on a sharp light, lately, was overheard to say to himself. ? Well of all ways of getting a living, the worst a man could follow would be going ibout town such nights as this, and getting nto bed for folks." The following epitaph is said to be written on a scolding wife: Here lies my wife, poor Polly; let her lie, Sho finds repose at last?and so do I." Stltd JUabing. BIT EARLY LOVE. BY WADSWOBTH. It was an ardent boyish love, That faded out as life grew older; My heart fled to her like a dove, And lighted on her beauteous shoulder; Or sipped the honey from her lips, Or in her eyes found heavenly graces? I loved her to her finger tips? I loved her very foot print traces, Her features wore a rapturous charm, Her smile mnde all within me flutter; , In rounded beauty was her arm, Her little hand was t5* fat as butter. No wonder that I loved her so," But she was false as she was pretty, And soon she sacked her little benu, And took a big one from the city, I caught him out one gloomy night? 'Twns one of love's extremes! Dhnses? I aggravated bim to fight, But Oh! he larruped me like blazes ? PIRATETOF CUBA. The following horrible particulars of the pirates of Cuba were given by ascaiuan who had been forced into their service : A quarrel took place between two of the crew, and a desperate fight with kuives ensued, of which the rest were cool spectators. The battle was for a long time doubtful; at length one fell with a severe stab in the left breast, bleeding profusely. I was instantly called to administer to the wounded man; and it was in vain for me to declare that I knew nothing of the healing art. The captain swore at me and said he knew to the contrary j for the master of the Zcpher had informed him that I had cured and saved the life of the sail-maker, who had fallen down the hold ; and, therefore, if I did not cure him he would serve me in the same manner. I saw it would be useless to make any reply, and therefore, having procured bandages, I staunched the blood and dressed his wounds in the best manner I was able. I was then obliged to turn my attentiou to his antago nist, who had Dot escaped unhurt. The captaiu went below, and inquired of the least injured of the wouuded inen the cause of their quarrel. lie told the pirate that his antagonist was one of the party formed by the chief mate to assassinate him and the whole crew, and take possession of the ship and plunder. That officer, he informed him had gone to Havana for the purpose of bringing some men, and that they were to put the plan into effect when himself and the crew were either asleep or inebriated. I saw that his rural temper was excited by tbis information ; his eyes flashed fire, and his whole countenance was distorted. He vowed destruction agaiust the whole party, and rushing upon the deck assembled the crew, aud imparted what he had heard. The air rang with the most dreadful imprecations; they all simultaneously rushed below, and dragged the helpless wounded wretch upon the deck, and, regardless of everything proceeded to cut off his legs and arms with a blunt hatchet, then mangling the body with their knives, threw the yet warm corpse overboard. Not contented with having destroyed their victim, they next sated their vengeance on his clothes, and everything belonging to him, which they cut into pieces and threw thcui into the sea. While off Cape llucnavista, a boat full of men, of the chief mate's party, appeared counng towards tncscnooner, wncn tne captain ordered his men to fire, and five men were killed ; -smother jumped overboard, but was taken and most barbarously treated.? Wounded and bleeding as he was exposed naked to the scorching heat of a July sun of a tropical climate, in order to make him confess. The man persisted in his plea of inuoccnce, declared that he had nothing to confess, and entreated them all to spare his life. They paid no attention to his assertions, but, by order of the captain, the man was put into the boat, pinioned, and lashed in the stern, and five of the crew were directed to arm themselves with'pistols and muskets, and to go in her. The captain thefi ordered me to go with them, savagely remarking that I should now sec how lie punished such rascals, and giviug directions to the boat's crew to row for three hours, backwards and forwards, through a narrow creek formed by a desert island and the island of Cuba. 'I will sec,' cried he, exultingly whether the mosquitoes and sand-flics will not mnke him confess.? Prior to our leaving the schooner, the thermometer was above ninety degrees in the shade, and the poor wretch was now exposed naked to the full heat of the sun. Id this state we took him to the chanuel, one side of which was bordered by swamps full of mangrove trees, and swarming with the venomous insects before mentioned. We had scarcely been half an hour in this place when the miserable victim was distracted with pain ; his body began to swell, and he appeared one complete blister from head to foot. Often, in the agony of his 1 ? ?- i. - J! J 1. ? ? 1\ i nv_ lOl'UlCniS, U1U 11U llJiJ-MUis mv;ui lu uuu uio i a.istence, and release him from his misery.? But the inhuman wretches only mocked and laughed at him. In a very short time, from the effects of a solar heat and the sting of mosquitoes and sand-flies, his face had become so swollen that not a feature was distinguishable ; his voice began to fail, and his articulation was no longer distinct. I had long suspected that the whole story of the conspiracy was a wicked and artful fabrication, and the constancy with which this unfortunate being underwent these tortures served to confirm my suspicions. I resolved, therefore, to hazard my interference; and, i after much entreaty and persuasion, prevail- : ed upon then) to endeavor to mitigate his suf- i ferings, and to let the poor wretch die in peace, as the injuries which he had already i sustained were sufficient of themselves to 1 occasion death. At first they hesitated ; but : after consulting some timeamongthemselves, ' they consented to go to the other side of the i island, where they would be secure from ob- i servation, and untie him and put something ; over him. When we had reached that place i we lay upon our oars, and set him loose; but I the moment he felt the fresh breeze, he j fainted away. When our time was expired, we again tied him as before, to prevent the fury of the captain for our lenity, and once more pulled for the passage on our way to the vessel. On our arrival, his appearance was the source of merriment to all on board, and the captain asked if he had made any confession. An nnswer in the negative gave him evident disappointment, and he inquired of me whether I could.cure him. I told him he was dying. 'Then he shall have more of it before he dies,' cried the monster, and directed the boat to be moMct* within musket-shot in the bay. This fcr iug been done, he ordered six of the crew to fire at him. The man fell, and the boat was or dcrcd alongside. The poor wretch had only fainted ; and when they perceived that he breathed, a pig of iron was fastened round his neck, and he was thrown into the sea.? Thus ended a tragedy which, for the miseries inflicted on the victim, and for the wanton and barbasous depravity of his fiend-like tormentors, never, perhaps, had its equal. HEAR HENM CLAY. The great Commoner, says an exchange? "though dead, still speaketh" to his countrymen, in ' Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn,' warning them against countenancing the formation of sectional parties,?just such sectional parties as that which is rallying under the black, disunion banner of Northern Republicanism. We invoke all who revere the memory of that illustrious statesman, to ponder well these sentiments, which fell from his lips in the Senate Chamber, on the fith of February, 1839. If forcibly applicable to the state of the nation 17 years ago, they are doubly, trebly true, as regards its rondition now. Again, we say, Read and Ponder ! The abolitionists, let me suppose, succeed in their present aim of uuiting the inhabitants of the Free States as one man, against the inhabitants of the Slave States. Union on one side will beget Union on the other. And this process of riciprocal consolidation will be attended with all the violent prejudices, embittered passions, and implacable animosities, which ever degraded or deformed human nature. A virtual dissolution of the Union will have taken place, while the forms of its existence remain. The most valuablo element of union, mutual kindness the feelings of sympathy, the paternal bonds, which now happily unite us, will have been extinguished forever. One section will stand in menacing and hostile array against the other. The collision of opinion will be quickly followed by the clash of arms. I will not attempt to describe scenes which now happily lie coucculed from our view.? Abolitionists themselves would shrink back in dismay and horror at the contemplation of desolated fields, conflagrated cities, murdered inhabitants, and the overthrow of the fairest fabric of human governmentthat ever rose to animate the hopes of civilized man. Nor should these abolitionists flatter themselves that, if they can succeed in their object of uuiting the people of the free States, they will cuter the contest with numerical superiority that must ensure victory. All history and experience proves the hazard and uncertainty of war. And we are admonished by holy writ that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong. But if they were to conquer, whom would they conquer ? A_ foreign foe?one who had insulted our Jag, invaded our shores, and laid our country waste ? No, sir : No, sir. It would be a conquest without laurels, without glory?a self, a suicidal conquest?a conquest of brothers over brothers, achieved by one over another portion of the descendants of common ancestors, who nobly pledging their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor, had fought and bled side by side, in many a hard battle on land and ocean, severed our country from the British crown, and established our national independence. <Thc inhabitants of the slave States are sometimes accused by their Northern brethren with displaying too much rashness and sensibility to the operations and proceedings of Abolitionists. But, before they can be rightly judged, there should be a reversal of conditions. Let me suppose that the people of "the slave States were to form societies, subsidize presses, make large pecuniary contribution, send for numerous missionaries throughout all their own borders and enter into machinations to burn the beautiful capitals, to destroy the productive manufactories, and sink into the ocean the gallant ships of the Northern States. Would these iucen- ! diary proceedings be regarded as neighborly and friendly, and consistent with the frater- ( nal sentiments which should ever be cherished by one portion of the Uniou towards another? Would they excite no emotion? | Occasion no manifestation of dissatisfaction, nor lead to any acts of retaliatory violence ? But 'the supposed case falls far short of the ' actual one in a most essential circumstance. ?In no Contingency could these capitals , manufacture arms and ships, rise in rebellion and massacre the inhabitants of the Northern States.' i,,,, < Statistics of Muscular Power.?Man < has the power of imitating almost every 1 motion but that of flight. To effect those i he has, in maturity and health, 60 bones in < his head, 60 in his thighs and legs, 62 in 1 his arms and hands, and 67 in his trunk.? < He has also 434 muscles. His heart makes ! 64 pulsations in a minute, and therefore 3,840 < in an hour, and 92,160 in a day. There i are also three complete circulations of his < blood in the^shorrspace of an. hour* _ In re- < spect to the comparative speed of animated i beings, and of impelled bodies; it may be t remarked that size and construction seem to ^ have little influence, nor as comparative < 9trength, though one body giving any quan- j tity of motion to another is said to lose so 1 much of its own. The sloth is by no means t a small animal, and yet it can only travel fif- i ty paces in a day ; a worm crawls only five 1 inches in 50 seconds; but a lady-bird can i .!? F-.. - - fly twenty million times its own length in less < than an hour. An elk can run a mile and a < half in seven minutes; an antelope, a mile ( in a minute; the wild mule, of Tartary has i a speed even greater than that-; an eagle can I fly eighteen leagues in an hour; and a canary falcon can even reach 250 leagues in the short space of sixteen hours. A violent wind travels 60 miles an hour; sound 1,142 English feet in a second. 4 RUSSIAN MARRIAGE. A Paris correspondent of the New York Times tells the following story: "The Emperor of Russia has lately performed an act of justice to a much injured and honorable American family, which reflects the highest credit on his government. ; The facts were given me by Mr. Sala, the ] principal writer for Dickens' Household ] Words, with whom I had the pleasure to , dine at London, and who was an actor in the history I am going to give you. A 1 i ..'A. .1 XT: ATT_-J ^vuuui eiguieeu muuiusugu, u itjlibs yy aiu, from one of the Southern States, was mar- , ried at Florence, after a short courtship, to , a Polish Count, whose unpronouncible name ( escapes me at this moment. They were married before the American Consul, I be- j lieve. After living with Miss Ward mari- , tally for three weeks, the Count took French ] leave one fine morning, carrying off his wife'B ( jewelry as booty. A letter left behind in- , formed Miss Ward of a fact of which she had , been till that moment entirely ignorant, to ( wit: that any Russian subject not married ] according to the service recognized by the . Greek Church and the Russian Government, ( was invalid and not binding, and that the ; service which had united them resembling in no wise the one required, they were as free as if no service had been performed.? ( The consternation of* Miss Ward and her family at this delectable piece of villainy , may well be imagined j for on inquiry they i fouod that the Count's statement* was but too , true. ( Miss Ward and her mother remained a 1 short time in Italy, endeavoring to obtain , some kind of redress for the base imposition which had been practiced on them, but their , efforts were fruitless. They then came to Paris and spent the winter here, where they ] were generally known to the Americans res- 1 ident in the place. At the period of coronation of the Emperor of Russia, they went to St. Petersburg. . It was here that Mr. Sala made the acquain- ( tance of the family, by a letter of introduc- ( tion from Paris. The family were going to demand justice of the Emperor of Russia against his scouudrelly subject, Mr. Sala drew up the petition to the Russian Minis- , ter, and in this petition Miss Ward deman- ( ded of the Russian government "the rehabili- . tation of her honor by a lawful marriage j with the Count." The document was handed to Mr. Seymour, the American Minister, and he handed it to the Russian Minister of State. The moment the case was laid before the ( Emperor, an order was issued to the Russian , Minister at Naples (where the Count was , then living) to confer with the Neapolitan Government, with a view to his arrest. The Neapolitan Government, which was just then in great favor with Russia, yielded at once to the request. The Count was seized by the Neapolitan police, and at Russia's ex- , pense was conducted to the Russian frontier; , there he was received by the Russian police and carried to Warsaw. The Wards were , already there, awaiting his arrival. The Count was marched into the church by a ( posse of policemen, and was compelled to stand up before the altar and marry Miss ( Ward in due form. When the ceremony , was concluded, his wife, now legally the Conntess of , made him a formal bow ( and bade him adieu, lorever. And caia, , who was present, exclaimed, "Young Ameri- ] ca forever." The count, who was an exile, was sent to Siberia his property was confiscated, the ! Countess retaining by law one-third. The < family immediately left again for Italy, where they are spending the winter. The father and mother of Miss Ward were pres- \ ent at the marriage at Warsaw, with revol- < vers in their pockets, determined if there ( was any flinching on the part of the Count, j to blow his brains out. For in view of the \ fact that he was destined for Siberia under < any circumstances,' it was feared that he i might not at the last moment pronounce the j necessary word. . . And thus was a high act of justice per- e formed by the Russian Government in a bold a and rapid manner, and an act which does c her the greatest honor. 1 ***** \ THE DULLNESS OP GREAT MEN. j Descartes, the famous mathematician and philosopher, La Fontaine, celebrated for his witty fables; Buflfon, the great naturalist, j were all singularly deficient in the. powers t jf conversation. Marinontel, the novelist, was so dull in society that his friend said of v him, after an interview, <1 must go and read D his tales, to recompense myself for the t weariness of hearing him.' As to Corneille, J the greatest dramatist in France, he was h oa okannf An/] _ JULUpiULL'J^y 1U3U 1U OlA/iwujr ov? uunvuu muu g( imbarrassed, that he wrote of himself a witty couplet, importing that he never was intelligent but through the mouth of anoth- ^ ;r. Wit on paper seems to be something a widely different from that play of words in j, jonversation, which while it sparkles, dies; q for Charles H., the wittiest monarch that a iver sat on the English throne, was so char- ^ ned with the humor of 'Hudibras,' that he jaused himself to be introduced, in the ibaracter of a private gentleman, to Butler, c ts author. The witty king found the author n i very dull companion, and was of opinion, a vith many others, that so stupid a fellow E ;ould never have written so clever a book. T A.ddiaon, whose classio elegance has long jeen considered the model of style, was shy ind absent in society, preserving, even be- g ?ore a single stranger, stiff and dignified si- p ence. In conversation, Dante was taciturn ri md satirical. Gray of Alfieri seldom talked ti jr smiled. Rosseau was remarkably trite in :onversation; not a word of fancy or eloquence wanned him. Milton waa unsocial, ind even irritable, when mnoh pressed by alk of others. Hit! ? V ^ PREMONITIONS. v.- . \ Perhaps the following cases are even more curious than those we published last week. One is related of Professor Bohn, teacher of Mathematics at Marburg, by Stilling.. fie ivas suddenly seized with a conviction, one evening, whilst in company, that he ought to go home. But being very oorafortably taking tea, ho resisted the admonition, until it returned with such force that, at length, be was obliged to yield. On reaching hie house, he found everything as he had left it} but he now felt himself urged to remove hie bed from the corner in which it stood, to an- r other; he resisted this impulsion, also.?* However, absurd as it seemed, he felt he must do it; so he summoned the maid, and, with her aid, drew the bed to the other side of the ioom; after which, he felt quite at ease, and returned to spend the rest of the pvAninc with his friflnds. At ten n'MnhVftui party broke up, he retired home, went to ' bed and to sleep. In the middle ol|be night he was awakened by a loud crash, A large beam had fajleu, bringing part of the ceiling with it, and was lying exactly on ita spot his bed had occupied. Another is related of a gentleman who, when absent from home once, was seized with such an anxiety ihoul bis family, that, without being able in ipy way to account for it, he felt himself impelled to fly to them and remove them from thg house they were inhabiting, one wing -of which fell down immediately afterward. *tlo notion of snch a misfortune had ever before occurred to him, nor was there any reason whatever to expect it, the accident originating from some defect in the foundationOne of the most singular cases of preseq^* ment is affirmed to have occurred on board of a British ship, while off Portsmouth.-^ The officers being one day at the mess-table, a young Lieutenant P., suddenly laid down bis knife and fork, pnshed away his "plate, and turned extremely pale. He then roee ?. from the table, covered his face with hie bands, and retired from the room. The president of the mess, supposing him to 'Be ill, sent one of the yonng men to inqtifre what was the matter. At'first, Mr P., was unwilling to speak; bat, on being pressed*, confessed that he had been seized by a mm!' den impression that a brother he had then is *' India was dead. *Ha died,' sabf he, Toerthe 12th of August at six o'clock; I ana perfectly certain of it.' No argument-could overthrow this opinion, which, in due course of post, was verrified to the letter. The young man bad died at Cawnpore at the period mentioned. PACTS ABOUT THE XOBAN. . , The Koran was written about A. D.'BtO. Its geneial aim was to unite the profession of Idolatry and the Jews and Christians in the worship of one God?whose unity was the chief point inculcated?under certain laws and ceremonies, exacting obedience to Mahomet and the prophet. It was written in the Koreish Arabic, and this language, which certainly possessed every fine quality, was said to be that of paradise. Mahothefc asserted that the Korau was revealed to him, during a period of twenty-three years, by the Angel Gabriel. The style of the volume is beautiful, fluent and concise; and where the majesty and attributes of God are described, it is sublime and magnificent. Mahomet admitted the divine mission both of Moses and Jesus Christ. According to Gibbon, the leading atticle of faith wbioh Mahomet preached is compounded of an eternal truth and a necessary fictiodjkiamely, that there is only one God, and that Mahomet is the apostle of God. The Koran was translated into Latin in 1148, and into English and other European languages about 1763. It is a rhapsody of 3,000 verges, Jivided into 114 sections. ***** ~ "T. I?" The Troy (N. Y.) Times, relates the following very singular .case: "A young Inly named Mary Davis, jvho is eighteen yearn >f age, and belonga in this city, has be$n irrested in Ballston, charged with the seduc;ion of a precocious son of Mr. Henry Clark, >f. Albany, aged 16 years. The young lady Dduced the boy to elope with her, and they )assed as brother and sister. She treated, liin with the most loving kindness, and footed all the bills at the hotel where they-were topping. The poor young gentleman Is [uite disconsolate, at the arrest of his sweetleart; tears his hair, and swears that he vill drown himself in the cistern if sh&is mnished. MSf The Louisville Democrat says. tfcyLa luel between two ladies is on the tapis in hat city. A formal challenge is known tb tave been passed and accepted, though the reapons and distance have not not been naaed. As will be readily imagined, a "genleman" is at the bottom of the quarrel.'? Lfter all, we don't know but that the ladies ave as much right to make fools of them elves as the lords of creation. High Prices for Tobacco.?The mar:et in Danville is jnst opening, and prices re extravagantly high. One of onr leadog manufactures, says the Republican of Thursday, has just shown us the sample of parcel which he has purchased at $80 per undred. jgk. Rev. George C. Foote, an Episcopal lergyman, rector of Whitemareh Parish, ear Philadelphia, took his congregation all back, a few days since, by announcing that e had become a convert to the Church of tome. A poor poet having written some dogerel verses to a young lady, in which he reeated the phrase, "I saw thee once," she sturned to him for an answer, that she would ike care he never saw her again.