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VOL. XXXIV.
0R31E, KNOWLES k OKIE,
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Tiie Lost Angei.
BY ROBERT JOCELYN.
A little angel strayed one day from Heaven,
And, lighting with a piteous moan on earth,
1; s.- jmed to mortal ken a blessing given,
As if an infant daughter had her birth.
Tlicj cful mother nourished her with care,
And oft, enraptured, gazed upon her face,
For eye s cerulean, and soft brown liair,
Such, it is said, the angels ever wear,)
tj.iv o to the child a more than earthly grace.
Ti heavenly visitor grew up apace,
Loving, and loved by all; but chiefly she
Adored the beautiful, the birds and flowers,
Each of the rarest tone and fragranev,
The sunshine, flashing through the Summer showers,
The dewy mornings and the twilight hours—
The solemn glory of the cloudless night
Intensely charmed her; opening to her sight,
As one by one the starry host advanced,
In march sublime, she seemed like one entranced,
Or listening eagerly to far-off song.
And thus the chequered seasons rolled along,
Till s'ne was seven years old. There came a change;
Her eyes became a deeper, brighter blue,
Her rosy cheeks assumed a paler hue,
Her manner grew mysterious and strange;
»S:- sought for solitude, and kept apart
T; treasures of her beauty-loving heart.
The anxious parents watched her, as she walked
Among the flowers, and wondered when she talked,
In low but musical and earnest tone,
With loved companions, seen by T her above.
Wln-n questioned how she passed these lonely hours
;di answered, “ With the spirits of the flowers.”
At 1 ugth ’twas Autumn, and the cold wind sighed,
Ti e iigh leafless branches, clouds and chilling rain
Shut out the prospect from the garden side ;
Tin* birds no longer trilled their plaintive strain,
rile green plants withered and the flowers died ;
Aii'i she too faded. (Slowly, day by day,
Her strength departed. Quietly she lay
l>.u her snow-white couch, herself as fair.
•' 1 softly glided life’s warm stream away,
' ’> scarce could think that death was working there,
slie never murmured; no one ever heard
From her a bitter or any angry word,
i v.is doubtful if she suffered mortal pain;
H so. the immortal never would complain;
let she was dying. When the winter came,
More dim and flickering was the vital flame.
One evening, when the sun, declining, shed.
Its cheerful beams aslant the maiden’s bed,
Mic had been sleeping, and her features wore
A lmly radiance, never marked before.
Flie watchful mother, hopeful to the last,
Her arms, caressingly around her cast,
bid pressed upon her pallid lips a kiss :
The child awakened from her dream of bliss.
Mitli tears her clear blue eyes began to fill,
As loath to leave, yet happy, for the while
ihere hovered ’round her parted mouth a smile ;
A flatter of tile heart—and all was still!
M ilJ, stormy anguish told the mother’s love,
Her sweetest, brightest hope on earth was riven ;
Lnt then was joy and shouting far above,
1 he little angel had gone back to Heaven.
From the Olive Branch.
THE OLD PASTOR.
BY CAROLINE T. NORRIS.
Hie sun shone brightly on the old par
sonage, the wild birds caroled their gayest
M's in careless freedom, the wind sweeps
v ”!i a low musical murmur through the tail
Hus, and all nature seemed rejoiced that
: glad summer had come again.
An o] d man sat in a wicker chair on the
p with a large bible open before him,
‘ as he read, casting now and then glan-
' at the objects around him, and then at
■ clear blue sky. Everything was farnil-
• rtf > him, for, for many years had his eyes
'tod on the same scene ; yes, he loved it,
: ' with a heart overflowing with gratitude
r his many blessings, he exclaimed,—
' cril v the Lord is mindful of his servant!”
b >od old parson Wentworth had seen
1 any and hitter trials, yet with a calm, un-
btltering trust, he had ever kept his gaze
y' • on high and holy things, and through
' ; the battle of life had kept pure and un-
■at.uninated by rude contact with the world
■ nil its selfishness. As he sat there think-
- m his single-heartedness of the works
nature, and wondering why men wished
1 jeave such a spot, and mingle with those
v .“° dwell in the dusty, heated city, a car-
; ' l ge drove to the gate, and a tall, business-
' vl ‘ looking individual sprang out, and
I: ing hastily up the walk, paused as he
the minister, and said,—
Mr. Wentworth, I presume ? I would
Ac to see you a few moments on business,
“ d° u please, sir.”
1 he old gentleman led the way into the
aise, and taking him up into his little
'U<lv signified that he was ready.
1 he stranger gave a preparatory hem,
5 1 then said,—
‘Really, sir, I am commissioned to com-
‘cdcate unpleasant news. You have a
'ii. I believe, employed as clerk in the firm
0f I) ayton & Co ?” *
1 on are correct, sir,” said the father,
j'ile he smiled a proud smile at the thought
him, and little thinking that the unpleas
ant news referred to anything Avrong he
■ done, he added,—“1 suppose the news
mat Mr. Dayton has concluded to keep
( j“ 1 ‘ an °ther year, and though I miss the
1 r hoy. yet as his mind seems to have a
MLLEDGEYILLE,
mercantile oent, I shall not oppose him if
he wishes to stav.”
The stranger gave another and a louder
hem, and twisted uneasily on his seat, as if
he wished he were anywhere else, and then
with an effort, said,
“T°n are laboring under a mistake, sir,
, * 01 / ! ' P a Y ton ^ ias no desire to keep him ;
but on the contrary, requested me to inform
you that lie has been exceedingly pained
>} the conduct of your son, and that though
the proofs of his guilt are clear, yet express-
cs Lie utmost sympathy in your affliction.”
lhe old man leaned over the table, and
clasped his withered hands, while he gazed
imploringly in the other’s face, but said not
a word. Touched by the mute agony of
his expression, lie hurriedly added, as if lie
t.iought it better to relieve his suspense at
once.
“ The money drawer was found broken
open, and a large amount abstracted, and
the robbery has been traced to your son and
another lad who sleeps in the store, and they
are now confined, awaiting their trial;—and
unable to bear that fixed gaze any longer,
he wished him a hurried good morning, and
muttering some common place phrases of con
dolence, departed.
He might as well have said nothing, for
they fell on an unheeding ear. The last
words that Mr. AA entworth heard were that
liis boy, the last of a numerous flock, had
dishonored his name and brought sorrow on
the head of his poor old father. The sun
shone as brightly, the birds sang as joyous
ly, the elms whispered as musically, yet to
him all nature had changed.
The soft summer breeze stole through
the open window, and lifted the thin, white
hair from his aged temples, and the little
house dog came and put up his silky paws
on his knees for his accustomed kind
word and caress, and turned away whining
piteously, as if he knew that something had
gone wrong.
The glad sunbeams came dancing in and
nestled lovingly among his dear old books
and manuscripts, yet he heeded them not.
He had known trials,—had with his own
hands closed the eyes of three sons, and one
darling daughter, the light of his household,
—and last of all, had crossed the hands on
the dead bosom, and folded back the gray
locks on the brow of his cherished wife, the
partner of his joys and sorrows, and laid
them away to rest in the quiet churchyard.
He could look from that very window and
see the humble graves *as the cold marble
gleamed in the sunlight, and in the still au
tumn nights he could hear the murmur of
the willow boughs, as they waved, and
sighed in gentle music tones above the
green mounds.
He would think that the plain white
slabs were but placed there to tell him that
those dear ones hut rested from earth and
its cares, and he knew that they all died
pure and good, and that when the frost of
death gathered on his brow, and dimmed the
lustre of his eye, he too would sleep with
them, and join them in their ceaseless an
thems before the throne of the invisible,
mighty, eternal One.”
But this last stroke was harder than all
the rest, for he had much rather have plac
ed him with the dead band, than have heard
that he had proved unfaithful to his trust;
and his brave old heart, that had never giv
en way beneath all his afflictions, was bow
ed, and the firm, enduring spirit, that had
never bent through the long battle of life,gave
way,—and crushed, and broken in spirit, flic
aged pilgrim cried aloud for help and sup
port.
For several hours he sat there,—then ris
ing, he went to his old seat in the porch,
and opening the bible, read as in the morn
ing. No one would have known that aught
had happened, save that there was a look
of deep, helpless sadness round the usually
placid mouth, and the lines on the venera
ble brow had deepened, and the meek coun
tenance was a shade paler than it was wont
to he.
The news had spread through the village,
and one by onethe neighbors came dropping-
in,—some of them hearing a basket of straw
berries or some little gift,—and their tones
were lower and more tender, and though
they spoke no word of sympathy, yet the
good man felt it all, and blessed them for it.
The next day was Sunday, and as the
clear church bell broke the Sabbath still
ness, the minister came forth ; hut his step
was slower and feebler, and he leaned more
heavily onliis stout oaken staff, and ashetot-
tered up the aisle, the deacon, struck by the
extreme paleness of his countenance, step
ped forward to assist him up the pulpit steps.
He shook his head, and unaided climbed to
the desk ; after wiping his brow, on which
the perspiration stood in large beaded drops,
he rose, and stretching out his withered
hands, repeated the morning prayer, and
gave out the hymn.
They had no music-pealing organ, or
fashionable orchestra, hut the tones of those
voices were heard on high, for they came
from pure, simple, untutored hearts, and
rose like incense till they reached and pierc
ed the clear blue dome above. The minis
ter joined, and when it was ended, in low,
hut distinct tones, he preached the morning
sermon, and when lie had concluded, he
added,—
“The hand of the Lord has been laid
heavily on me, my people ; hut still his
goodness is apparent, and though his ways
are mysterious and past the finding out of
poor finite mortals, yet my trust is still in
Him, and through the dark clouds tliat en
velop me around about as a shroud, the pure
beams of the sun of rightousness still shine,
and all is well with me.”
The stillness was unbroken, save by the
sobs of those assembled, and the last hymn
was hardly articulated at first, but by <le-
•Tees grew louder, and closed in one pcal-
fng anthem of rejoicing, and after the last
words had sounded on the ear, and the ech
oes died away, still the minister did not
move, and they went to him, and with mur
mured words of sorrow boic him home. He
was not quite dead ; and they tried every
means to bring warmth and life back to the
aged limbs in vain. All that day and the next
they stood by him, but still the spark flick
ered, but lingered before it went.
As they leaned tearfully over him, a
quick, hounding step was heard, and heat
ed and flushed, a youth sprang in, and rush
ing to the sufferer, threw himself beside
him, and amid sobs and tears, broke forth,
“)Iv father, oh ! my father, why did you
die before you knew that I was innocent ?
Why did you die without giving me your
blessing ?”
As if the tones of that dear voice had
called his heaven-drawn soul back to earth,
the pastor stretched out his hands, and in
low, trembling tones, said,—
“Say yet once again, my boy, that you
are innocent, before I go, ’
“I am not guilty. The true perpetrator
of the ciime of which I was accused, has
confessed all, and they have set me free.—
Bless me, my father, and live for my sake,”
and the hoy burst into a passion of tears
and wailings.
The old pastor laid his hand on the bright
young head that drooped beside him, and
said,—
“I am dying, my son—the hand of death
is on me now, and my old heart has almost
throbbed its last throb !” Turning to the
weepers, he added,—“Did I not tell yon,
mv people, that the ways of God were past
our feeble comprehension, and is it not so ?
May Heaven’s best blessing rest on you,
my boy, my youngest and last horn, and
may you ever keep in the path of peace
and rectitude 1 have endeavored to point
out to you. Peace and blessings rest with
you, my people, and may God keep you
ever as in the hollow of his hand.”
The nerveless hands fell, and he sank
hack, and all that was left of the minister
was the poor worn out body, for the spirit,
in all its pristine purity, had soared to its na
tive home. The brave old heart was still
ed, and in silence, sadness and tears, they
shrouded him for his final rest, and mutely,
sorrowfully, they bore him to his church
yard bed, and turned away to seek their
darkened homes, for they had dearly loved
their pastor, and to them it seemed as if one
of their own fireside circle had gone from
among them.
Peace to his ashes,—and though his field
of action was a limited and humble one,
yet many a true and trusting Christian looks
on his lowly grave, and with tears blesses
his memory, and in the glad summer time,
the village children reverently come, and
with low tones and whispered words, place
bright flowers on the simple tablet, on
which is inscribed by his mourning people,
“He resteth in God.”
From the Southern Christian Advocate.
Prayer for Rain.
“ When the heaven is shut up and there is
no rain because they hare sinned against thee ;
yet if they pray towards this place, and con
fess thy name and turn from their sin ichen
thou dost aflict them :
“Then hear thou from heaven and forgive
the sin of thy servants and of thy people Is
rael, when thou hast taught them the good
way wherein they should walk, and send rain
upon thy land which thou hast given unto
thy people for an inheritance.”
This impressive portion of truth is taken
from the sublime and appropriate prayer of
King Solomon at the dedication of the tem
ple which he had just reared to the wor
ship of Jehovah. Each separate petition
of the prayer might profitably employ our
thoughts ; hut we have selected the forego
ing portion of it as most appropriate to our
present circumstances. He recognises the
hand of God laid heavily upon his people
in blightning the product of field and gar
den by long continued and scorching
drought ; and it is to be noted that he re
gards this scourge as sent by God as a pun
ishment for transgression. The drought
was God’s scourge, and was inflicted be
cause of the wickedness of the people. This
distinct recognition of God’s agency in the
infliction of temporal evil, was much more
general and palpable among the saints of
the Old Testament times, than I fear it is
at present among us. We are so generally
and so deeply tinctured with a shallow phi
losophy which excludes God’s agency to
make room for our potent doctrine of second
eauses ;—we can so readily account for
flood or drought by the operation of the
laws of chemistry or by some law of nature,
that we are slow to see the hand of God in
any of the atmospheric cr meteorological
changes which so generally effect our tem
poral comforts. God thunders in the hea
vens, and we explain it at once. God sends
hail, and rain, and frost, and snow, and we
philosophize it out, and philosophize God
out of it. God curses us with drought; our
fields languish ; our gardens whither and
droop and die ; our waters dry up ; sadness
gathers about our hearts as the prospect of
starvation stares us in the face ; yet there
is no repentance for sins committed, no hu
miliation, no deep contrition of heart before
God, no close and honest inquisition into
our lives and hearts that we may discover
wherein we have failed to honor God. We
go along hard and proud and unrepentant,
if we are scourged and scorched, so are
other people; and we cannot help ourselves,
we make up our minds to a sort of desper
ate resignation ; we fail to see the hand of
God, to hear the voice of God in his judg
ments.
Now, the Scriptural doctrine, it seems to
me, is that God sends these temporal judg
ments in order to rebuke our impenitence,
and lead us to regard the Lord our Maker,
and humble ourselves before him. It would
seem from the text that when this scourge
came upon Israel, God intended that they
should repent them deeply for the many
deeds of evil and dishonor to himself of
which they had been guilty, and that they
should confess and forsake their sin, and
should prove their sincerity by a full and
hearty renewal of their vows, and by obe
dience to the mighty God of their fathers,
whose house was in Jerusalem. Upon
their doing this, the indication is that God
would send rain upon the land ; that the
world might yield her increase and supply
food for man and beast. Such seems to
have been the doctrine taught by the royal
preacher; and such I believe is the true
doctrine for us now.
God has smitten us sorely in almost all
portions of this country with drought. The
clouds have been forbidden to rain on us,
so that in many places there must be an en
tire failure of bread. 3Vc look to our fields
and all is gloomy. We enquire for signs,
and they all fail. We see the clouds arise
and spread over our lands and we are full
of eager hope ; but suddenly the wind scat
ters them, and the burning sun blazes yet
more fiercely upon our withering fields, so
that it would seem as if the swift winged
clouds had only passed by to mock us.—
Well, what has been the result of all these
things upon us ? Have we humbled our
selves, privately and publicly before God ?
This humiliation, confession and supplica
tion ought not only he in private hut also
in public. Let all avIio fear God, closely
and prayerfully examine heart and life ;
and let them gather together at the house
of God and make their confessions, and re
new their vows there. And in addition
let them put away their sin, whether it he
idolatrous covetness, or inordinate love of
pleasure, or a heartless skepticism which
fails to recognize and reverence God in all
things, or whether it be hatred or prejudice
toward our fellow-men. And if we do these
things promptly and honestly, pei adventure
God will he entreated for us and send us
rain? James O. Andrew.
Oxford, Ga., June 19.
Too Late.
The following interview is said to have
taken place recently between Gov. Alar-
cy and a prominent politician from New
York, who went to Washington for an of
fice :
“Well, my friend, what situation do you
wish ?”
“AATiy-y-y, I’m not very particular; but
somehow or other, I think I should like to
be a Minister. 1 don’t mean of the Gospel;
but one of them ministers to foreign ports.”
“I am very sorry—very sorry, indeed—
there is no vacancy just now. Would not
something else suit you ?”
“Why-y-y,” answered the apple-headed
man, “I wouldn’t much care if I took a
situation in one of the Departments. I
wouldn’t mind much being a Comptroller,
Auditor, or something of that sort.”
“My dear sir, I’m very sorry, very sorry,
very sorry, indeed ; but it happens unfortu
nately that all these situations are at pre
sent filled ; would you not take something
else.”
Our friend stroked his chin, and seemed
struggling to bring down the soarings of
high ambition to the present crisis. At last
he answered :
“Wh-y-y, yes ; I don’t care if I get a
good Collectorship, or Surveyorship, or Na
vy agency, or anything of that sort.”
“Really, my good sir,” said the Secreta
ry, “ I regret exceedingly that not only
all these places, hut every other place of
consequence in the Government, is at pre
sent occupied. Pray, sir, think of something
else.”
He then, after some hesitation, asked for
a clerkship, and finally the place of mes
senger to one of the public offices. Finding
no vacancy, he seemed in vast perplexity,
and looked all around the roo% fixing his
eye at length on the Secretary, and meas
uring his height from head to foot. At
last, putting on one of the drollest looks
that ever adorned the face of a man, he
said :
“Mister, you and I seem to he built pret
ty much alike, haven’t you some old clothes
you can spare ?”
The Poet Moore at the Falls of Niagara.
In the “ Memoirs, Journal, and Corres
pondence of Thomas Moore, edited by
Lord John Russell,” (who has given an elo
quent and beautiful delineation of the char
acter of the Poet,) we find the following ac
count of Moore’s visit to the Falls of Niaga
ra in a letter to his mother :
Niagara, July 24, 1804.
“My Dearest Mother :—I have seen
the Falls, and am all rapture and amaze
ment. I cannot give yon a better idea of
what I have felt than by transcribing what
I wrote off hastily in my journal on return
ing. ‘Arrived at Chippewa, within three
miles of the Falls, on Saturday, July 21st.,
to dinner. That evening walked toward
the Falls, but got no further than the Rap
ids, which gave us a prelibation of the gran
deur we had to expect. Next day, Sunday,
July 22d., went to visit the Falls. Never
shall I forget the impression I felt at the
first glimpse of them, which wc got as the
carriage passed over the hill that overlooks
them. Wc were not near enough to be
agitated hv the terrific effects of the scene,
hut saw through the trees this mighty flow
of waters descending with calm magnifi
cence, and received enough of its grandeur
to set imagination on the wing—imagina
tion which, even at Niagara, can outrun re
ality.
“ ‘I felt as if approaching the very resi
dence of the Deity ; the tears started into
my eyes ; and I remained, moments after
we had lost sight of the scene, in that de
licious absorption which pious enthusiasm
alone can produce. AYe arrived at the New
Ladder, and descended to the bottom.—
Here all its awful sublimities rushed full
upon me. But the former exquisite sensa
tion was gone. I now saw all. The string
that had been touched by the first impulse,
and which fancy would have kept forever
in vibration, now raised at reality. Yet,
though there was no more to imagine, there
was much to feel. My whole heart and
soul ascended toAvard Divinity in a savcII
of devout admiration which I never before
experienced. Oh i bring the atheist here,
and he cannot return an atheist ! I pity
the man who can coldly sit down to write
a description of these ineffable Avonders:
much more do I pity him Avho can submit
them to the admeasurement of gallons and
yards. It is impossible by pen or pencil to
convey even a faint idea of their magnifi
cence. Painting is lifeless ; and the most
burning words of poetry have all been la\ r -
islied upon inferior and ordinary subjects.
We must have new combinations of lan
guage to describe the falls of Niagara.’ ”
The AVaist of American Ladies.—The
unnatural length and ridiculous smallness
of their Avaists baffle description. A waist
that could be spanned, is an English meta
phorical expression used in a noA’el—but it
is an American fact; and so alarming does
it appear to an Englishman, that my first
sentiment on viewing the phenomenon, was
one of pity for unfortunate beings Avho
might possibly break off in the middle, like
flowers from the stalk, before the evening
concluded. No less extraordinary is the
size of the ladies’ arms. I saw many Avhieh
Avere scarcely thicker than moderate sized
walking sticks, Yet, strange to say, when
these ladies pass the age of forty, they fre
quently attain an enormous size. The
whole economy of their structure is then re-
versed, their Avaists and arms becoming the
thickest parts of the body. Here is a sub
ject Avorthy the contemplation of the etho-
nologist. How comes it to pass that the
English type—which I presume has not, in
every case, been so affected by the admix
ture of others as to lose its own identity—
Iioav comes it to pass, I say, that the Eng
lish type is so strangely altered in a few
generations ? I have heard A-arious hy
potheses ; amongst others, the habits of the
people—the dry climate. The effect of
the latter on a European constitution, Avould
have appeared to me sufficient to account for
the singular conformation, if I had not been
persuaded by natives of this country, that
the small Avaist is mainly owing to tight la
cing. This practice, it is said, is persever
ed in to an alarming extent; and if report
be true, it is to he feared that the effects avi 11
he felt by future generations, to a greater
degree than they are at present.
[Dublin University Magazine.
From the London Economist.
Can Slavery be Abolished ?
“ The natives of the Gold Coast,”* says
Air. Cruikshank, confirming the statements
of other authors—his description being
more or less applicable to the Avhole AAYst-
ern Coast of Africa—“ may be emphatical
ly termed a race of slaves.” “ The ac-
knoAA-ledged head of a family possesses the
unquestionable right to dispose of his de
scendants and collateral relations in any
way that he may think fit. They are, in
fact, so much property, which he can sell,
paA\n, or give away, at his pleasure.”
There, as in the early ages, men buy their
Avives, and regard their offspring as proper
ty. This is very much in accordance, as
Air. Cruikshank points out, with many pas
sages in Scripture; and that condition of
society on the coast of Africa is the origin
of the slave trade and of that slavery which
yet pollutes some of the AA'est India islands
and the Southern States of America, after
the bulk of civilized society in Europe
and in the Northern States has outgroAvn
it. These things, though remote iioav in
space, are connected as cause and effect,
and there Avould be no slavery in the States
had there been none in Africa. An insti
tution or a practice so Aery general, both
in time and space, must he considered con
sistent with the order of Nature at one stage
of society, though inconsistent with it at
that stage Avhieh society in Europe and in
North America has iioav reached. But it
can no more he put doAvn than serfdom can
be restored. Our reason and our hearts
call on us to abhor it and to strive against
it, and Ave hope to improve it. AYe, our
selves will have none of it, as corrupting
and degrading all alike; but it is a differ
ent question whether our abhorrence is a
justification for making common cause with
the enthusiasts of the Northern States in a
crusade against slavery in the Southern
States. The party in the North feels the
pollution and the degradation which afflicts
the Avhole society ; but Ave have no more
business, as a nation, to take up the cause
of the Abolitionists in the United States,
and declare a war of opinion against the
Southern planters, than avg have to take up
the cause of Alazzini and Kossuth, and as
sail the Governments and people of Austria
and Russia.
Where is this sort of moral crusade to
stop ? If Ave are to break ground against
the Southern planters, can Ave alloAv the
Turks to retain any persons in slax r ery ?
That empire exists in a great measure
through our intervention and support, and
Ave, therefore, are chargeable, to some ex
tent, with the slaA’ery which exists in Tur
key, while avc are in no Avise responsible
for its existence in the States, except that
it was introduced there when they formed
a part of our colonies. Egypt is placed
under the same conditions as Turkey, and
Ave tolerate slavery in Egypt. Slavery
exists, too, in Russia; practically, too, it
exists, or did, very recently in Hungary
and mostof the countries about the Danube.
The condition of the large masses of the
population in India, under our domain, is no
better than slavery. AYe have thousands
of people under our protection and domin
ion on the Gold Coast, amongst AA’hom slave
ry is as common as marriage and families.
And because this institution or practice is
so wide-spread, it seems not advisable to
commence a crusade against it in the Uni-
ted States, particularly as we ourselves
suffer under evils almost as glaring Avhieh
Ave fail to redress.
Slavery formerly prevailed throughout
Europe, including England, hut no record
is to he found of the means by which it Avas
abolished. One or tAvo Bulls were fulmi
nated against it, but it was outgrown rather
than put down by decrees or laws or reso
lutions or busy enthusiasts. AYe must trust
to the same causes noAv, whatever they
Averc, which formerly enabled society to
outgroAv serfdom to outgrow negro slavery
noAv ; and avc cannot, like the meeting held
in Exeter Hall on Tuesday, adopt the re
solution that “ the principle of immediate
and unconditional emancipation is the on
ly one that is consistent with the rights of
the slave and the duties of the master.”
As slavery was rather outgroAvn than put
down in Europe, and as the case in which
it was put down by us is iioav often repent
ed of—as our oavu Jamaica still grumbles
at the loss, and as the planters have inher
ited rather than established it, Ave must
have patience with its existence. It was
not established for evil, but from the ex
pectation of effecting good. Negro slavery
in America Avas the substitute for the mur
der of the sIoav Indians in the mines, and
had its origin in the benevolence of Las
Casas. Many other institutions and prac
tices that now plague society had a similar
origin. The whole system of the Papacy,
Avith its monasteries and eom-ents, its nu
merous orders of friars and nuns, originated
in benevolent or religious motives. All the
oppressive systems of GoA’ernment in Eu
rope, hoAvever much avc noAv condemn them,
arose in the same way, and Avere intended
for good. AYe deplore our national debt,
hut the causes from Avhieh it sprung were
undertaken for the national honor or na
tional benefit, not from deliberately evil
designs. Neither had slavery in America
its origin from bad motives. It was the off
spring of circumstances in a particular
state of society, and it cannot now he put
down by a feAv ambitious enthusiasts or by
acts of legislation.
It appears by the last census that there
are in the United States 3,201,093 slav r es
owned by about 3,000,000 people, and va-
lued at 1200 millions of dollars. How can
such a mass be emancipated ? AATiere are
they to go ? How are they to live ? Hoav
could they he employed ? They could not
get their OAvn living. Are the planters to
A-acate the land for them ? Are they to give
their estates up to their slaves ? Are they
to become the servants of the negroes ? Im
mediate and unconditional emancipation is
simplv an impossibility. Exeter Hall might
as well resolve that the sun shall not shine,
or that the rivers shall not run into the sea.
Unfortunately, however, this proceeding
has a moral and political aspect which is
not pleasant. Parties in the United States
are contending fiercely against one anoth
er. The question of slavery there is one of
political poAvcr as vv’ell as moral truth. And
those who passed that resolution took the
side of a political party. Between Eng
land and America there are many differen
ces of opinion besides this slavery. Our
society is an old aristocracy; theirs is a
young democracy ; and they may envy our
old success as we may em-y their young
greatness. Their politicians promulgate
resolutions hostile to our influence in Ame
* Eighteen years on the Hold Coast of Africa, &c.
By Brodie Cruikshank. Hurst & Blackett. Great
Marlborough street.
rica, : nd the proceedings in Exeter Hall
will apj:ear to them under a political as
pect. It may Aviden political difference-
.trengtlien prejudices, encourage hostile
and angry feelings, and check the progre s
of friendship and ch’ilization.
A distinguished American, whose letter
appears in the Times, and was apparently
written in the United States long before
the meeting on Monday, says:—“ I see
that Airs. Stowe has the promise of much
attention in England. I would be proud of
this, as she is my country-woman and a
person of talent, were I not afraid that the
attention paid to her may be looked upon
here as the expression of English feeling
generally in regard to sr institution with
which our people, among Avhom it exists,
brook no foreign interference.” If such an
apprehension exists, merely from showing-
attention to Airs. StoAve, what must he the
effects of associating her with a great pub
lic meeting directed expressly against the
slaA’ery of the South ? It may, perhaps, he
said by the stern moralists of the meeting,
that men must follow good principles re
gardless of consequences, trusting the issue
to God. AAT can but agree in the state
ment, hut wc question the good in this
case. It is not whether slavery be eA’il or
not—that is settled long ago,—nor wheth
er we should practise it ourselves or not—
that too is, happily for us, decided long ago
in the negative,—but whether we shall set
up ourselves as judges of other men, and re
proach them for an inevitable misfortune
as if it Avere great guilt. That is not a good
principle nor a moral proceeding, and Avhen
it is likely to provoke against us ill feel
ings in the Southern States, it ought not
from any fancied pharisaical holiness to re-
eeNe any encouragement.
AYe are adA’ised, in order to abolish slaA C-
ry, to give up the use of slave-grown cot
ton. That is a recommendation from the
Northern States to cut off all commerce
with the Southern States of the Union. It
amounts to suppressing a trade that on the
Avhole gh’es employment to no less than
three million people and sustenance to four
times as many. To destroy that trade
would make a fearful hole in society—a rc-
volution and a destruction, to which all the
revolutions of modern Europe would he as
a street row to the ovcrthroAV of the throne
of the Capets.
The gentlemen at Exeter Hall carry their
A'ieAVS a long way. They resolved that
“ those who are in earnest in condemnation
of slavery should observe consistency;
and, therefore, it is their duty to encourage
the development of the natural resources of
countries where slavery does not exist
and the meeting earnestly recommended,
that in all cases where it is practicable, a
decided preference should he given to the
products of free labor by all who enter their
protest against slavery, so that at least they
themselves may be clear of any participa
tion in the guilt of the system, and he thus
morally strengthened in their condemna
tion of it.” That is the enactment by
opinions of a new system of differential du
ties, and is a condemnation of all those
merchants who, being honest abhorrers of
slavery, can no more help dealing with
slave-grown produce than planters can help
cultivating their land by the assistance of
the population they find upon it. The anti-
slaA cry adA’oeates Avould bind it on men’s
consciences to trace the parentage of every
cotton garment they Avear, and every cup of
coffee they drink, and every pound of su
gar they consume or deal in, which digs an
impassable gulf between them and all the
business and all the consuming classes, and
shuts them off from the sympathy and sup
port of millions as earnestly desirous as
themselves of meliorating the condition of
Slaves. But for their terrific zeal quieter
men AA-onld he anxious to hasten the object
they have in aucav, and which will he reach
ed in good time. If reason had not been
smothered by violence, the statesmen of
America Avould have made some kind of
bargain Avith the South when Congress
passed the Fugitive Slave Law, and haA'c
stipulated in return for the action of the
whole States in recoA cring slaA’es, the abo
lition of those laws which in Carolina and
other Southern States scandalously and
shamefully protect the masters in treating
their slaA-es with cruelty. Such laAvs might
he amended by temperate appeals, while
iioav they are retained out of contempt for
the A’ulgar fanatical A’iolenee tliat, pretend
ing to seiwe the blacks, assails the rights of
the whites.
To turn trade from its course lias been
beyond the power of the greatest soa’C-
reigns; and it is not likely to be effected by
the pastime meetings of Exeter Hall. Nor
Avould it he advantageous Avere it done.
AA liatever certain monopolists, and Avould-
be monopolists, of the Northern States may
say, trade has done more to civilize man
kind and to promote peace in the world
than missionaries and meetings. Enthusi
asts, hoAvcA cr, know not what they do, and
their inconsiderate zeal must he pardoned
for their good intentions, though the decla
ration that immediate and unconditional
emancipation is the duty of the masters in
the States is not to be surpassed for imprac
ticability by any project hatched in the
world either inside or outside of Bedlam.
Crying children, in church, are usually
considered as nuisances, and taken out;
hut this is not always the case, as the folloAA--
ing anecdote from the Ladies’ Repository
for April will shoAV :
“ A brother, just returned from Califor
nia, was present in a congregation of broth
er OAven’s, when a babe in the arms of its
mother began to cry. A thing so unusual
in California attracted not a little atten
tion, and the mother rose to retire.' ‘ Don’t
leave,’ said the preacher, ‘ the sound cf
that babe’s voice is more interesting to ma
ny in this congregation than my OAvn. It
is, perhaps, the SAA eetest music many a man
has heard, since, long time ago, he took
leave of his far distant home.’ The effect
Avas instantaneous and powerful, and a
large portion of the congregation melted
into tears.
To Clean Combs and Broshes.—To
enough of tepid Avater to cover the bristles,
not the top of the brush, add a few drops
of spirits of hartshorn, an ounce of which
may he had for sixpence at any apotheca
ry’s. Dip the brush seA’eral times, shaking
out the water carefully, and the mixture
will act like magic, lea\ ing it clear and
pure, needing only to be dried by a tOAvel.
No rubbing is needed. Combs may be done
in the same Avay without injury.—Lady's
Book.
I hate to hear people talk behind cue’s
back, as the pickpocket said, when the con
stable called, “stop thief.”
\lb 2 i,
Novel and Great Invention.—A ocr-
r “spondent, says the Boston Bee, sends the
following account of a safety car, the result
of his ingenuity, which is published for the
approval of the public :
“The seats on which the passengers sit
are to rest on pistons, which pistons are to
pla\'into cylinders, which cylinders arc to
be charged with gunpowder, which powder
is to he touched off Avith. percussion caps and
hammers, which caps and hammers are to
be all united by rods, which rods are to !c so
connected to the engine and cars, that aa beli
ever any collision, obstacle, SAvitch, dr; w
bridge occurs, or whenever the engineer, or
fireman, or conductor shall see fit. all the
aforesaid pistons may he discharged at once,
firing up the passengers high and dry into
the air, through the top of the cars, instead
of being drowned or dashed to pieces in
them.
“It will he necessary that the top of tin-
car, instead of being covered with boards,
should he coA'ered with thin cloth or canvas,
through which any liumairhead of ordina
ry thickness, or skull, will penetrate with
perfect ease. I would also suggest, as a
further improvement, that a parachute he
placed directly OA er the head of every pass
enger, so that, in being fired up through the
top into the atmosphere, lie will find him
self provided with one of those convenient
little articles, used by ail balloonists, for
descending to the ground fre-m any height
at pleasure.”
Another New Territory.—The Union
lately published a communication from
Henry S. Schoolcraft, esq., describing a
section of country known by the name of
Alharra. He says it is attractive, aaoII-
timbered, and fertile area of country, lying
immediately Avcst of the Rocky Mountains,
in mild, temperate latitudes, to Avhieh, for
the purpose of distinct allusion, he applies
the aboriginal term, 'flic area is about fif
ty miles broad, and lies parallel to the
Rocky Alountaius for a distance of several
hundred miles. It gh’es rise to both of the
main and numerous suit-affluents of the Co
lumbia river. It is a high plain, which is
cut through by these affluents, of a most fer
tile character, bearing trees, and in s< me
places high grass ; and, aa bile the streams
create abundant Avater-power for lumber and
grain mills and machinery, they are free, or
nearly free, from inundation of their banks.
This district probably comprehends twen-
ty-fiA'e thousand square miles, and, if its ca
pacities of production have been correctly
estimated, would sustain a population great
er than some of the Eastern and Atlantic
States..
Tlie Mission to China.
YYe understand that the Hon. Robert J.
YY alker has so far recoA cred from the in
disposition under which he has long labor
ed, consequent upon a slight accident which
bcfel him while in England, that be has
concluded to accept the office of Commis
sioner to China, offered him some time sir.ee
by the President, and that lie will proba
bly set out on his mission about tlie first of
October. Although the learned Dr. Park
er will probably he continued as Secretary
and Interpreter to the mission, we arc glad
to hear that Mr. John Ross BroAvnc, of this
city, will he also attached to it and go out
with tlie Commissioner. Mr. BroAA’ne is al
ready very favorably knoivn to our readers
through his amusing and interesting letters
from Turkey, Syria, the Holy Land, Ac.,
published in the National Intelligencer
during tlie last year or tAvo. In China, he
will IiaA’e a new and rich field tor observa
tion, and from his skilful pen and graphic
pencil his countrymen at home may expect
amusement and instruction regarding the
peculiarities of tlie singular people he is
about to go among.—Nat. Inf.
Small Notes are prohibited in South
Carolina after tlie 1st of July. The sixth
section of “ An act to extend the charter of
the Bank of the State of South Carolina,”
passed at the last session of the Legislature,
is as follows:
“ VI. That from and after the first day
of July next any person or persons, corpor
ations of body politic, who shall, within
this State, directly or indirectly, pay out,
pass or put in circulation, or cause to be
paid out, passed or put in circulation, any
hank note, hill, certificate or acknowledg
ment of indebtedness, whatsoever, purport
ing to he a a bank note, of the nature, char
acter, or appearance of a bank note, of a less
amount or denomination than five dollars, is
sued, or purporting to be issued,by any bank,
or person or association of persons, in any
other State, shall be subject to the payment
of tAventy dollars, to he recoA'orei ! by action of
debt at tlie suit of the State, and appropri
ated one-half to the informer and the other
to the maintenance and repair of the public
buildings in the district where - lie action is
brought.”
Bloody Duel in New Orleans.
The New Orleans Picayune of the 21st.
inst., says :
“A duel was fought on the other side of
the river yesterday afternoon, between Mr.
('ohn, editor of the Staats Zeitung, and Dr.
AYintzel, editor of another German paper,
published in this city, Avhieh it is feared will
end fatally for one of the parties. The
conditions of the duel were that thev
should fight with pistols, the one winning
the first shot to fire at fifteen paces, the
other at fUe. The following are stated as
particulars of what transpired on the
ground : Mr. Cohn fired first, at fifteen
paces, and missed. He then adA-anced ten
paces and halted, when IViDtzel raised his
pistol. While all were expecting to hear
the report, his hand slowly sunk to his side,
and the seconds rejoiced in the idea that
no blood would he shed, and an estimable
life be preserved. But their hopes proved
fallacious, for AYintzel again raised his pis
tol and fired. The ball struck Air. Cohn in
the right side, just below the ribs, but did
not pass out, and at a late hour last night
no hopes were entertained of his recoverv.
\A intzel has disappeared, but the police are
inhot^pursuit of him.”
Says the Washington correspondent of
the NeAv York Journal of Commerce :
“The end of the month is looked to with
apprehension by some hundreds of AA’hig
clerks, or rather clerks appointed under
A\ big administration. It is somewhat re
markable that, at a time when party spirit
has little or no exertion anyAvhere in the.
country, the system of party proscription
should be carried on in a more searching
and thorough manner than at any other pre-
A’ious time. The reason is apparent, how
ever. The outside pressure upon the Ad
ministration for offices, even the smallest, Ls
greater than it ever was before.”