Newspaper Page Text
Voi. a.
the sarrnEß.v spy
IS EI»ITKI> AM* PUBLISHED EVERT TUESDAY
MORNING. BY
UA m M S ' A XI a y 3
TElt.fi*:
Threi: Dollars per annum, payable in ad
vance, or Three Dollars and Fifty
Cents n I the expiration of the year —Two
Dollars for six months.
Aft A f.Ri isE'iEM s trill he conspicuously in
serted at Skventy-Fivf. Cents perseft.i.rt
for the first insertion, anti Fifty Cents for
reck subsequent insertion.—Those intended
to he limited, must hare the number of inser
dions written on them, or they will he insert
ed till forbid, ami ch irgcd accordingly.
All Letters to the Editor must he tost paid.
DIRECTIONS :
Sales of Land or Sr cross, by Administra
tors, Executors , or Guardians, are required, b y
law, to be held On Ike first Tuesday in the
vioifih. between the hours often in idit fortnoor,
and fear in the often oo.:, at the Court-Hoirse
oj the County in which the property is situate.
Notice of these sties must be given in a public
gazette, sixty .lays pr sinus to the day of sale.
Notice of the sale of Pirtomd property, must
be given in iilce manner, forty days previous
to the day of sale.
' Notice to the debtors and creditors of an es
tate, must be published for forty days.
Notice, that application will be made to the
Court of Ordin try for leave to sell land or
HEGROKS, must be. published for Tour Months.
Notice that Application will be made for
Letters of Administration, must be published
thirty days, and cf Letters of Dismission.
Six Months
~'3limc;L»:LLA.Yi':i i DTa.
From the Charleston Coserver.
Ais Efficient Church.
3. An efficient Church is one that holds the
truth in the love of it. It derives its doctrines
■ami learns its duties from the Bible, which
like the licrneans of-old, all its members are
in the habit of consulting—nor of consulting
merely—but of believing what istheje taught,
and of doing in simplicity and An sincerity,
what is there enjoined.
2. Asa necessary consequence, an efficient
Church is one which is in the habit of meet
ing and communing together, that they may
thus stir up eac^j,..others pure minds by way
of remembrance. Nor are these meetings
confined exclusively to the Sabbath. They
recollect that religion is an every day con
cern; and as opportunities offer they collect
together either itt groups or in larger assetn-
Lluo for ; .aver, fb: imitsr.l ’••d'.r.' or !' -
some object connected with the prosperity of
the Redeemer* kingdom.
3. An efficient, may not be a very wealthy
Church, nor a very large Church, nor a
Church composed of individuals who stand
high in the world’s estimation. Yet it must
be rich in faith and good works. It must be
harmonious. Its members mus 1 live togeth
er in the unity of die Spirit and in the bonds
of peace. For it never can be efficient if one
is for Paul and another for Apollos, and ano
ther for Cephas, or if there be divisions and
strifes among them, arising from any other
cause.
4. In an efficient Church, the member
slan 1 all equipped and ready for action; and
when duty points the way, they advance ir;
a solid phalanx without shrinking in view of
the difficulties which they must encounter, or
appalled at the obstacles which they have to
surmonnt.
5. Au efficient Church acts upon the prin
ciple that when one of its members suffer, all
suffer with it. As they love one another
they are tender of each others reputation.—
And by the manifestation of kindness and
fidelity they strengthen the weak—reclaim
the erring, and cause those who may have
backslidden to return to the Shepherd and
Bishop of souls.
(i. In an efficient Church, you will almost
invariably find those Institutions which have
a direct bearing upon the prosperity of reli
gion both at home and abroad, in a prosper
ous condition. The Sabbath School most
usually indicates tiie true character of the
Church. If that is poorly attended arid more
poorly instructed—if but few of the members
of the Church take any interest in the lambs
of the flock it is art unfavorable omen. It
shows that there is but little efficiency in the
household of faith.
7. An efficient Church, even though small
and poor, prize so highly the Ministry of the
word, that they will make actual sacrifices
in order to secure it. They will give freely
and make extraordinary exertions, and prac
tice extraordinary self-denial, that they may
be enabled to give, in order that they may
enjoy the benefits resulting from the slated
and faithful admitiistiation of the word and
ordinances. Nor will they consider it a tax
—but a privilege to bear their part in sup
porting the Co-pel.
K. Sxtfiz an efficient a selfish Church. As
the Gospel they are desirous
that the same gift should be imparted to those
who are And aecotdingly they
contribute ns they are prospered, either of
their abundance or of their penury, for the
purpose of sending the Bible and religious
Tracis at;l the thing ministry to those who
are perishing for luck of a i-ton. Nor do they
coo shier this ns so much waste, but as a loan
to the Lord which He will re-pay—as bread
cast upon the waters which they shall find
after many days.
fi. |t is not necessary in au efficient Ch*»reh
‘/r .'B r: kt v .# ,v p i.v/o .v. .v o it* .i .v n r ti/f / i- m: r, ,v s: «i .v o s.vsesf».# es .3 « r *.**
*c male them tit” srhjeet of an a;
(teal, but their principles. When they know
their duty they ate ready to perform it.
10. An efficient Church isaprav ingChurch.
If there be no minister to conduct religious
sen ices, tit ■ Elders can do it—and the mem
bers iu their turn can ieau the devotions of
the meeting. Nor is it merely public or so
cial prayer that is offered. In every family
an altar is erected—and in every house there
is a closet.
11. Another characteristic of an efficient
Church is its attainments in the knowledge,
not only of the Bible, but of the state of the
religious world. The channels of informa
tion on this last point are sought with avidi
ty, cad their hearts rejoice when they leam
what God is actually’ accomplishing by the
diffusion'cf .his truth through the world.—
With ibis knowledge they can pray mere for:
V n ,! “f' y King" come. Nnd they car
labor and give more freely to sustain the great
woik of spreading abroad the light of the Gos
pel.
12. In an efficient Church the Ministers,
and Elders, and people, co-operate m ail
plans which are proper to be pursued for the
promotion of religiou, both at home and a
broad.—They encourage each other in their
labors of love.—They sustain each other in
their trials.—They comfort each other in their
affliction—And they render each other mutu
al aid in persuading sinners to be reconciled
to God.
13. Nor is discipline neglected in an effi
cient Church. Unholy and improper con
duct in its members is marked, and the ne
cessary steps are taken to bring the offender
to repentance. The motive which prompts
to litis unpleasant, this painful duty, arises
not front what the world will say, but from
what the law of Christ requires. And ail is
done for the glory of his name—for the puri
ty of the Church, and for the restoration, if
possible, of the erring member, to bis for
mer standingin the household of faith.
These are some of the marksof what I con
ceive to be an efficient Church. Wouldthat
their number was much greater than, there is
reason to fear, they are. Would that Minis
ters and Elders and people were all living
near the throne of grace, and all actively en
gaged in discharging the obligations implied
in their covenant vow*. A PASTOR.
Frcrqtlw <>....a rc.-if Jd-crti.-rr.
T^atelifuSEicss.
When I was a boy, 1 was unaccountably
bashHtl in female society. I fairly roared
whenever my mother made me sit down to
dine with ladies. As I grew up I became
worse. It was in vain my brothers, (I had
no sisters,) laughed .at me, and sneeringly
(old me, that the women would not bite me. 1
I constantly fled from them, however, when- !
ever and wherever I saw them, and if i heard
of any of them contemplating a visit to our
house, I contrived to be engaged in fishing
and liuntiTig at the time.
I recollect that my father once compelled
me to walk home with a young lady. Worlds
I would have given for exemption. But I
was obliged to yield; and, although we bad .
but CO rods to go, and started together, yet,
when she reached home, we were CO yards
apart. ]
I often suffered for my excessive bashful
ness. Once I escaped into a hog pen, where
"dr. Hog used me very unceremoniously. At
-
another time, seeing some young ladies com
ing. I slipped behind the frontdoor, expecting
them to pass, so that I could decamp; but Miss
Galboy must have perceived me, for, when
• she entered, she jammed against the door, &:
almost slammed me Into a jelly.
At the age of 15, I was sent to college,
where I was delighted that there w ere no wo
men. Here I acquired the accomplishments
of smoking, chew ing, play ing cards, and oc
casional drinking. Besides, I succeeded in
mastering all the charges of typlo, and forget
English enough to be a scholar.
1 became a quainted w ith Jack Hanson,
and we were chums and class-mates during
our siav. I really loved him, he Was so
good-natured, and when our education was
complete I reciprocated a promise of visiting
I had forgotten, at the time, that Hanson
had two sisters, Louisa and .Margaret, altho'
be sometimes spoke of them, until I fairly
knocked at the door of his father’s house to
acquit myself of my promise.
Jack came and welcomed me in. After a
little chat, his mother and sister descended,
and I was introduced. “Mr. Elvin, permit
me to introduce you to Sirs. Hanson, my
mother,” and so with the rest.
Some observation* passed between us; but i
what w as said, I can no more remember, than
if I had been addressed by the woman in the •
moon. At length, 1 was sealed in a corner
of the room. The sweat rolled frem me; I
was in agony. At last, I sly ly cook a huge
chew of tobacco, and was more than ready to
engage in the osrw/y jiracticeof spitting, when
Bliss Louisa asked me a question. I was bow
in a predicament. I could not speak, with
out di--barging the amber from mv mouth,
and I could fuel do that upon the splendid ear
pet. Iu short, I unwfittingly alio*odjuice,
tobacco and all. Now f was fixed! and I
staggered to the dreof with terrible retchings.
O. tobacco! tobacco 1
B 4SHI\SiTOY. WVSkm TJTSD%T,orTOB«B IJ, 1536.
- * it
i bow ionnu myssirsn a chamber, reru
ning on a bed, with several persons an -and
me. end amongst them was Louisa. I gazed
at all around, and final! v reodlecie. how i
got into inis scrape. I will cure ray self of
my bashfulness, said I. internally. I will
prove ttrilie world, that i, who wot .and once
have run from a jvenicoat flag. am is brave
a' a Texian. and as brazen as the r.rpent of
Muses.
I began niv reformation in eanesl: for I
instantly exclaimed, “Miss Loui-a, how the
devil did I get here?”
The lovely girl thought I was ejlirious, and
was try ing to think of a suitable reply, when
h< r sister came in and stated, tlst ! had been
taken suddenly ill the evening previous, ow
ing to the confined air of tin. room, as -he
supposed.
, “X. it I • u
'I evt uc> v !,: drt -n to t chevcNae era*-?
Nevertheless, they did not eat me tip, nor
even bie me. And I began gradually to
think women were not sueh terrible crea
tures, as 1 had supposed, iu fact, in less
than a fortnight, 1 was promenading in Mr.
Hanson’s garden, with Louisa aud Margaret
on either arm.
Reader, will you believe it ? I was in
love with them both: I adored them. Slid be
gan to think seriously of marrying. But, in
choosing between them lay the difficulty.—
One day, however, I ventured to state a case
parallel to mine, aud ask tiie opinions of Lou
isa and Margaret. They both agreed, that
the only alternative for two young ladies, e
qually favored by a ymmg gentleman, and
attached to him, was to dravr straws.
Oil my next visit, Margaret whs very dis
tant and reserved, while Louisa was as
playful as a kitten. I supposed, that they
Itad drawn straws, sure enough, and had de
cided, that I should take the eldest, which
was Louisa, and, therefore, deteimined to de
feat their design. I wooed, and did my best
to win, the retiring Margaret.
In this 1 at length succeeded; and the vow
was made, of wilier the fi Ifilment was to
bind our fates indissolubly together, yet, I
could not help sighing at ri.e thought of Loui
sa’s disappointment. Br.t I was soon undeceiv
ed ; for Louisa was married to ,
two months before 1 led my lovely Margaret
to the altar of Hymen.
ReaJer, I have now been married five
T I 1 i no? absolutely live upon nectar
and ambrosia. 1 have thrown away iny to
bacco box, for obvious reasons; and, as for
drinking. Ido that poetically. In fact, 1 have
unlearnt all that I w-as taught at college, and
forgotten every particle of Greek, except one
amatory line, which I often address to my
pearl of a Margaret:
By heaven above and earth below,
Zee moKs sas agapo.
Every thing around delights me; even to
the insects.—l have several children, and no
longer run from a petticoat. ELVIN.
liovr tall was Adam I
This important question ha# been debated
with as much earnestness as if the salvation
of the world depended upon it, by many very
learned men of different ages auj corin'?? #,
who, bowever they may have differed in their
computation, all agreed in one thing, that the
stature of our first father was prodigious.
In the foiemost rank of these speculators
we must place the Jewish Robbins and the
mystical writers of the Talmud : some of the
latter assert that when Adam was first crea
ted, his head lay at one end of the world,
while his toes touched the other end ; but that
his figure was ranch shortened after his trans
gression, at the request of the angels, who
were afiaid of such a giant. These Talmtt
dis:s, however, left him the height of nine
hundred cubits; and others pretend that on
being expelled from I’aradbe, he walked
straight through the ocean, which, so enor
mous was the length of his limbs, even after
they had been -horrent and by sin, he fosHuL
everywhere fordable. Other Rabbins reject,
as fabnlou.-, the account of Adam’s stature
equalling the length pf the world; they fix it
at one thousand cubits at his creation, and
-ay that God deprived him of exactly one
hundred cubits when he had eaten of the for
bidden fruit. These extravagant tioii iospre
vailed among the Tori #, Arabs, and many
people, who certainly never read the old,
Jewish writers, but who all agree in attri*
ting io Adam a mist super-hii;\*
Mature of Eve, his wife, wariV-*
port ion aie; and in theneighl
tfaev show a hill which served a
J ...i . v it
low, and afar off",
her legs re-. ! rd, i..
i feel to the other being computer w-‘
! ket-shols.
We should hardly have erpe- "and to *•
these <1 ream# revived ia France in the eigh
teenth century, and among a society of learn
ed men; yet the fact is, t’uat in the year 1713,
lleorion presented to the Academy of Belie*
I yen rev a chronological scale of the human
stature, wherein be soberly insisted thru Ad
am was exactly one hundred and twenty,
three fee* aim, inches high, and Lee,nee
hundred and eighteen foil, nine incite* and
three quarter*; being \w< 'i»ciy four foci,
eleven uc fie* and a quarter, ehoocr than Iter
husband-
kcroriia; to Henri-ns scale, the size n:
man rapidly diminished from his first fall,
down to his redemption ; and. but for the ad
vent if our Saviour, the human form divine
woo’d, ia the same process of diminution,
have be- n reduced, long ere our time, to that
of a miserable homunculus, not so high as
niy Fncle Tobv's kuee. The learned author
#..>-# :hat Noah was twenty feet shorter than
Adam: that Abraham was orris twenty-eight
te.t high; but that as for Moses, (poor puny
creature !) iic measueed no more than thir
teen feet from the orowtt of his head to the
of lis feet, lien lion, like a true theo
r.st, wed ed heart and brain to bis s\ stem, is
by in means disco i. raged or put out when he
gets amour the factsol tolerably well authen
ticated history. Iu contempt of all authori
ty. he says, Alexander the Great, who was
fojrrnrked ..i :-hi, i«o:arip* being
small man, was six feel high, but
Sthat Julius Ca-sat only measured lixe feet.
Under Augustus our Saviour was born,
and thea the statute of mankind ceased to
dwindle, and began even to shoot up a little;
but there Ilenrioii’s Echelle Ckrvnologique
stojis, he having proved id his entire satisfac
tion that, in the course of three thousand
p ears, mau had diminished and lost one bun
|3red aud eighteen feet Dine inches ofhisstat
rire.
The Siamese, and other Asiatic people,
have a religious belief that corresponds with
the ingenious Frenchman’s hard-laboured
scale : they say that since the loss of his
primitive innocence, man has gradually be
come less, and that in the end he will not be
higher than a magpie. But all people, all
religions, all supetstitions, have acknowledg
ed the existence, in former times, of a gigan
tic race, and have delighted to dwell upon the
visionary picture ofdays'vhen we were purer
in heart, stronger in frame and mind, “ more
blest, more wise,” than we now are.
Until a comparatively very recent date,
the science orgeology aud comparative anat
omy were so very little cultivated, that all
die hege bones of the largest of living crea
ture*. and of those monstrous animals that
have so long disappeared from the face of the
earth, were taken for human bones. People
-cent to have forgotten that the world had
any other than human inhabitants. The
scattered bones of whales? rhinoceroses, hip
pnpoiami, elephants, nay, even the fossilere
*
> • mastodon, and the megatherium were
pi bed up and shown as fractional parts of
tlu bodies of ancient races of men ; and when
ribs were found three feet in circumference,
no I thigh-(tones six feet long, no wonder they
believed there hall been enormous giants in
the land. These remains strongly confirmed
the vulgar error; for when men can say of
anything wonderful, that they have seen it.
with their own eyes, there is no hope of con
vincing them. The evidence of human skel
etons found entire, of mummies, three thou
so. and years ago, no ways larger, or differing
in proportion from living men and women,
had no weight on these large believers in the
marvellous, w ho could swallow an antedilu
vian monster fora mau.
- r f Hie lie:!:' r.atjfc.
A I'rcneli paper relates a pleasant adven
ture which occurred at a Fancy Ball during
the jours gras in Paris. A young Engli-di
Nobleman having purchased a bear at one of
lire menageries on the day preeedingthe ball,
h :d him accoutred and muffled, and dre.-sed
himself in the character of a -bowman, took
his friend by a entdand introduced him into
ire saloon. Master Bruin excited the admi
ration of the ladies to a high degree, l>v hi - |
r.rifov and entrechats. “Ah 1” crier! they,!
“what a tine"figure! Is it possible that one 1
c: rt so well imitate a bear!”
After amusing himself a little while in this
manner, the voting noble released his alien- \
firms :o his friend, who immediately resumed i
natural position by drojiping upon his
:f. anJ making bis wav ihiongh the
crowd w ithout yielding the pas to the demois
elles, upon whose toes he trod with the ut
-3!o-i sang froid, forcing himself between the
legs of the dandies, and brushing bis shaggy
coat against their fine silken hose. They
latin'ued —they applauded, I dieting that the
ma ~. - filing his role, but when
lj*t!ieerowd rudely before
to think the joke
Hp
: •
rFiv w ell ; but you should
Eat all, the airateur contiu-
L iffioei deigning to i< ply.—
a little angry, repeats
J it —enough—rai.ee yourself
* . 1 Ait, Ire, Monseur, this is
i*iC ’n ve trod upon my toe. You are too
'dent in your disguise. Here is iny card.’
Think of an enraged dandy presenting his
,rd to a t ear?) The card fell by the muz
j r e of Master Bruin, who contented himself
.:*h ineorly smelling it, without reply. The
; dandy became furious. “This i* too much
ir/ excisin 'd he. “follow rue to the Gom
! ary ofihe fYii r.”
Lome one, at this moment take . the beat by
• < cord, he tfo-. on lb* hind feet, prepared
protrtetrode or to dance, as the company
,c t derire. Tlwry led him before the eoiri-
atissary. He infcrogyfcs the- masque. No
reply. They lose all patience—he is strip
ped of his masque; uml die veritable master
Bruin shows his teeth to the infinite surprise
of the beau mondc. My lord makes his ap
pearance—ami explains—and they pardon
him, in consideration of the merit of the joke.
riinching fire.
jjlt is surprising that among the vast varie
ties of discoveries which Phrenologists have
made on the territory of the human skull,
they have not found the organ of igniiivcitess.
They may depend upon it, that such au or
gan ts there, and we shall not Ire amazed if
we ourselves hit upon it some of these days,
in our explorations through the boundless
field of our own, or more modestly speaking,
of some of oat friends' intellects, aud tin reby
disappoint every body ami ummprlalize our
selves after afi.' According to our philoso
phy, felicity in making fires depends upon
organization—and, therefore, a man must be
born with a genius for if, or remain a numb
skull so far a# its manifestation is com erned.
Any blunderer can put a good fire out, but il
takes a genius to build up one.
Ladies have been remarkable, from time
out of mind, for the dexterity which they often
manifest iu pouching lires. Did you ever
see a lady blushing w ith cold, enter the room
without marching straight up to the fire place,
picking up the tongs and banging away at
t lie fore-stick ? If you have seen such a
thing you have seen a f nude prodigy. The
dcsito of torturing their lovers is not more
natural to the dear sex, than is the propensi
ty to punch the fire. Koine times the grati
fication of this innocent propensity is attend
ed with sad discomforts. For instance—when
you have by the aid of construct iveness, suc
ceeded iu building up a first rate frame work
for the flames to wreath themselves about,
and are jie-t congratulating yourself ou your
architectural skill, in will pop your wife, or
sister or some other lovely being, and picking
up the tongs, with one fell blow will effectu
ally !cv( I the result of your labors. The lire
is knocked into a cocked bat, as our friend
would say, ami Lets tip a smoke like a
miniature Stromboli. If vott see like our
selves, a man of gentle temper, and your
amiability being unruffled, you iu turn grap
ple the tongs and rebuild your fire castle, by
thetime the flames are beginning to make a
meal of it, in rushes another lady of the lami-
Ty.'aT, . iiei ’« yoit’c«»i s.Vv jjlk «» v ohiiteoti.
her prett3’ fool twinkles, and away she kicks
the whole affair into a heap of smouldering
ruins.—The thing is done in so graceful a
manner, that for your life you can’t get an
gry. You can resume ymir labors again,
and so go on ad infinitum as the philosophers
ay.
Example and Precept.
lit J. K. PAULDING,
A line fashionable mother, one beautiful
>pi ing morning, walked forth into the city,
leading by the hand a little child of five or
six years old. The former was dressed iu ail
the fantastic finery of the limes; she had a
pink bonnet ornamented with a bird of para
dise, shaded with huge bows of wide ribbon ;
sleeves which caused her taper waist to ap
pear like lean famine supported on < itherside
by overgrown plenty ; her gown was of suc h
redundancy of plaits and fold.-, that a whole
family might have been clothed from its su
perfluities; ifc while withotie hand sho led the
little girl along, in tiie other she held n cam
bric handkerchief worked with various devi
ces, and bordered with rich laee, reported to
have eost fifty dollars. The little child was
dressed as fine os its mother, for site unfortu
nately had light curly hair, and was reckoned
a beauty.
They passed a toy shop, and the child in
sisted on going in, where she laid out all the
money she had, in various purchases, that
I were of no use, whatever, in spite of the ad
; vice of her mother, who alternately scolded
and laughed at her for thus wasting her al
; lovvance on things so useless. The child
: seemed to reflect a few moments, and thus
addressed her mother:
‘Mother, what is the use of those great
sleeves you wear 7 ’
The ir.off.et was silent, for the question
puzzled her.
‘Mother, what is the use of that fine bird
i on your hat V
The mother was still mure at a loss for a
reply.
‘ Mother, what is ihe use of hnv ing a work
! ed handkerchief, bordered will) lacc, to wipe
’ your nose?’
‘Come along,’ cried the mother, somewhat
roughly, as she dragged the little gill out of
, the toy-shop, ‘come along, and don’t ask so
i many f!>oli*ii questions.’
Thr World [icforc t!s« Fioori.
Baron Cuvier, the celebrated French phi
losopher an«l n.'ituriilist, after the most pa
tient and laborious search, came to the con
elusion that no human bones have ever been
found in three regular deporites made by the
-obsident eof the water* ofihe deluge. From
: the phenomena of the earth he argues that a
great revolution took |*b:ce upon its surface
;p s limn or fl.OliO year* ago, by w hich
i minin'• lb‘n inhabited were buried arid
concealed, while the count ties now inhabit
ed were formed from the Itotior/i of the former
waters, tl.u- aecouriling for the marine »lielfo
and petrifactions found annost every where',
even on the tops of the mountains.
There is a thought of deep and dreadful so
lemnity connected with these facts. “ The
fountains of the great iS’eep," at the deluge",
“ w ere brpken up,” and “ the eternity of wa
ters” rose against rebellious man. The liv
ing world were drowned, with the lone excep
tion contained in the heaven-sustained arf;
which floated £>vcr the lace of an ocean the
most gloomy ami troubled that ever rolled
over n shoreless orb. And the nvvfol curse
stopped not there ! Man was buried too, and
too deep for that wide mountain-covered
grave ever- to reveal its dead until the heatt
of the old and crazy earth -siiall break iu the
judgment agony, and pour out, in the face of
the morning of eternal day, the ntillrons she
ha# entombed in her central chambers. The
burial ofihe old vtoild was deep and effect
ing. Not one poor frame of a man who de
spised the warnings of Noah has ever reflect
e I the sunshine of the new world which a
rose from the bottom of a hundred seas, after
that awful baptism aud purification by water*.
No man hath seen a relic of the dead med
who lived in the world before the flood.
Christian Herald.
Lessons on Eleallfi,
Occupations which are unhealthy. —Coffee
ner ten become nstlnnnffc, and subject to
head-urlre and indigestion. Malsters (per
sons who prepare limit) cannot live long;
if they continue in the business. Snuff'ma
king is unhealthy. Tea men suffer from the
dust, ospci billy of green teas. Brewers are
npl to be unhealthy. Distillers arc liable
both to acute and chronic diseases. Chim
ney sweep* die early. House painters dd
not usa,illy live to old age. Confectioners
are by no mentis among the longest lived.—
Cooks are unhealthy; probably because they
aic apt lo cat between meals, and eat up
things to save them! Chemists and drug
gists ate sickly and consumptive. MiuerS
die voting. Ihinteis frequently complain of
the stomach aud head, but many tire healthy.
Tailors, ropemakers, and shoemakers, usual
ly suffer from their stooping postures. Mil
liners, dress makers arid straw bonnet ma
kers, nre Unhealthy and short lived. Watch
makers are sickly. Colliers, well sinkers;
corn millers, paper makers, masons (these
generally die by 4U or 50.) iron filers, bras*
founders, copper srniibs licmtore make pi,
potters, pmmuers, ..adoh Vs uira gi'ass-biow
ers, are usually unhealthy. Butchers ap
pear healthy, but iftey do uot often live id
old age.
'/’hose which are. healthy. —Farmers livri
long, though gardening is not so healthy, oti
account of stooping so much. Brickhiakcrs;
coopers, carpenters, fishmongers, wheel
wrights, tanners, curriers; clock-makers, soap
makers, tallow chandlers, dyers, grooms,
hostlers, brushniakers, mi n in oil mills, press
men in priming offices, arid bookbinders, ard
generally healthy.
A severe Joke.
A friend of ours travelling through New
Hampshire, topt for the night at the Stage
Hotel in a celebrated village. He retired to
bed early, but could get no sleep until near
day-light, in con " iptencc of tie noise made
by the arrival and departure of the stages. —
When the last stage left, he turned himself
over iti bed, and prepared for a comfortable
snooze, but just as old Morpheus had seized
hold of him, his cars were saluted by the bel
low ing ol a cow directly under his window)
and, to use hi# own expression, “it sounded
like n noise made by ten thousand devils.”—
Finding there was no suds thing as sleep, he
arose, arid looking out the window, discover
ed the object of his wrath, and perceiving a
man near by, said to him, “Do, for heaven’s
#ake, kill that cow, arid bring me the bill iff
the morning, arid I will pay it.” The man
took hiin at his word, and killed the animal.
On descending lo breakfast, the first persort
our friend met with was tiie cow-kilter, witH
the bill, lie was “taken aback,” but, how
ever, determined to do the handsome thing;
lie put his hand to his pocket, audio! and
behold, his pocket-book, containing 8350;
had abducted itself, and gone to parts un
known. Here was a’dilemma—a stranger iri
a strange land—his bill to settle—a cow id
pay for, and no money. He, however, madtf
out to procure a loan, squared old demands?
aud started for home, determined never to of*
for to pay for the killing ofanother cow.
Boston Republican:
Optical Experiment. —Place on a white pa'
tier .a circular piece of blue silk, about sous
inches diameter, in the sunshine, place off
ibis circle a piece of yellow, three inches iri
: diameter, on this a circle of pink two inchei
in diameter, on this a circle of green one incll
in diameter, ort this a circle of indigo half uri
; inch in diameter, making a small speck wirii
i ink in the centre—look on lids central spof
steadily for a minute, aud then closing you?
eyes, aud applying your hand at about one
incli distance before them, so as to prevent
too much light passing through the eye-lidxj
you will m e the most beautiful circle* of col-'
I ors the imagination can conceive, not only
different from the color- of the .ilk* above
mentioned, but tlte colors will be perpetually
'■bunging in koltitlescope variety as long as
they exist.
i\o, C.