Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

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.