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intimation that a young l:nlv was on board,
a wok* a terrible fear in hi* bosom, foi it was
in that vessel his daughter had originally in
tended taking passage. He was certain
Margaret was aboatd. Tic felt it because
her death by these means would be a terri
ble retribution. Instantly there rushed on
.is mind his whole guilty career ; he lieutd
gain the shrieks of drowning men lured on
to sands by his fatal light, he saw the mo
her and infant lying pale and icy on the
intry beach. To secute wealth for his
tdy child he had done ail tills, and now alio
erself the victim of his crime. To what
vail had he loaded his soul with guilt, since
•he was to be snatched from him almost at
he very moment he expected to clasp her
n his amis. In that ten ible moment he felt
the avenging hand of the Almighty. His
love for his child had been made the instill
ment of punishing himself. lie gazed
breathlessly, with straining eyes and eager
face on the speaker, until the fatal words
were pronounced which confirmed his fears,
but then he could hold out no longer, the
muscles of his face twitched Convulsively,
he gave a groan that seemed torn from the
lowest depths of his heart, staggered, and
fell insensible. The speaker stopped and
stared around.
“ It is his child,” said one of the men,
pushing aside the rescued passenger, “away
with your pitiful prayers.”
“Oh! my mistress—my poor mistress—
sweet, sweet Mat ey,” said the old woman,
with touching pathos, her voice losing all its
harshness in her grief, “ can’t you save hoi,
Jim ?—or you Benson ? oh ! to think of her
drowning out there, and we not a quarter of
a mile off, safe and sound on dry land,” and
she wrung her withered hands in hopeless
agony.
But nature would not permit the father
long to remain insensible, and opening Ins
eyes, he stared an instant wildly around ;
then, comprehending all, he sprang to his
feet and rushed wildly toward the surf.—
Two of the men darted after him and seiz
ed him when already knee deep in tire un
dertow. He struggled fiercely, but they
bore him back.
“ Let me go,” he cried, fighting like a
maniac for liberty, “ I trill go—my child is
drowning, my only child, my darling Margy
—I can Rave her and I will. Let me go, 1
say. Off, devils, murdeiers. Are you fath
ers I oh! let me go!” lie continued, bis
tone changing to one of heart-breaking en
treaty. “She is shrieking for me. Oh!
God—oh ! God, have mercy on me, and
spare me my daughter,” and again lie went
off into frenzied exclamations. “Sheshall
not die. She is there within sound of my
voice and you shan’t keep me from her.—
Let me free,” lie cried, as with distorted
countenance, he struggled for liberty ; and
and so gigantic was his strength that the
third man had to be called in before lie could
be restrained.
Even those weather-beaten and depraved
men were moved, for, criminal ns human
nature may become, it rarely grows callous !
to natural affection.
“Be quiet sir,” said one of the men
soothingly, “ the man may be wrong. But
at any rate nothing can be done for your
daughter.”
The father, exhausted by bis efforts, re j
mained still while tiie men spoke. But find
ing no hope held out, he gave a sudden and
desperate jerk, which nearly freed himself.
“Give me my liberty,”ln; howled, rather
than cried, twisting his body wildly toward
tbesliandcd ship, “ and di n’t mock trie by
saying my daughter can't i>e saved when
you are not lifting a finger for her. 1 tell
you, Benson, if your child was out there,”
he said, with more colieiencv, “ I would
risk my life to save her. So I would if you
had a daughter on that shoal, Alio ways. Old
have you the hearts of men, or are you
fiends ? 1 don’t ask you to go with me,”
continued he, imploringly, finding he could
not break free, and the tears rained down
his cheeks as he spoke, “ only let me go.—
I’m an old man, and she’s my sole daughter.
If she dies, I will die too. Oh ! give me
one arm loose, only one arm. For the love
of heaven don’t hold mu here to see niv
child die.”
“ Let him go—get a boat—s? ve my wife
and child,” said the rescued nassenger, ven
turing to approach the group again, regard
less of old Kate who would have held him
back.
“ Cufsetbe man, can't lie hold his longue,”
said Benson, turning angrily uioutid and
striking the inopportune pleader a blow that
laid him on the earth. “If we can’t do
anything for an old comrade, and a sort of
captain of ours, does he think we’ll try for
him.”
Duringthis little episode the frantic fath
er had continued his struggles and entrea
ties, now imprecating the resistance of his
keepers, and now beseeching them, in the
most moving tones, to grant his prayer.—
Old Kate, forgetting her own grief in svrn
patliy for him, approached with tearful eyes.
“ Don’t take on so, dear master,” she
said. “Margy may not be aboard after all,
But oh ! vvliat do I say ?” and she broke oft’
abiuptly, wringing her hands. “There is
no comfort for you or me hereafter—none,
none.”
“ No—l have murdered my child,” said
the father in wild accents of self-reproach,
“ she might have been safe if it hadn’t been
for me and my accursed light. Oil ! God
of heaven have mercy on me—take not
such fearful retribution. It will soon lie too
late to save her. Give me my freedom
while there is'hope. There is hope i tell
you, Benson. Won’t you give me hope?
You have served me long,” and lie clung to
the man despairingly, “ serve me now in this
and I’ll go down on my knees to you. See,
the waves are breaking over the ship, and
in a little while she will he lost forever.—
Oh ! let me try while she lives—give n,e—”
He paused, arrested as if by some super
natural spell, gasping for breath, and his
frame shaking like one in a fit ; for at that
instant a cry, even more fearful than the
shriek which had risen from tho ship when
she struck, swept by on the gale, and instan
taneously the dark shadow, occasionally lost
in foam, whieh the wreckers had noticed on
the outer shoal, vanished like a wreath of
smoke blown away. The ship, with her
living freight, was a prey to the wild wa
ters.
A minute of profound silence ensued.— ■
The wreckers stood mve-sti urk.but at length ;
they turned their eyes curiously on Bowen, >
l for as yet he had not by wort! or motion j
given evidence of the effect the catastrophe
produced mi him. Ilia eyes starting from ;
their sockets were fixed .u the spot where |
the vessel had been la-! seen, but their ex- !
| pressinn was stony and vacant, and the mus
! pics of his face were rigid. He stood mo
tionless, his head slightly inclined forward,
but his lips were parted, and on them dwelt
! a frightful smile, half mockery, half mirth.
In a moment he butst into a maniacal laugh. ;
, They started back firm him.
• “He has gone mad!” ul length said Ben
: son, awed into solemnity.
It was so. The conflict had overthrown
j his reason. j
j In the vain hope that his daughter might,
i by some miracle, teach the slmte alive, the
wreckers sought her along the coast for
j hoursdui ing the night. Tin ir search was j
I useless. Numerous bodies were washed on [
; shore, but no living thing appeared to have j
j survived the parting of the (-hip's timbers, j
j When morning dawned, cold and gray, the ;
I wreckeis went forth front the hut where :
I they had spent the latter portion of the night
and, on reaching the beach, saw a figure
I clothed in white lying lifeless on the sand, i
Her face was turned to the sky. A smile •
1 of calm repose dwelt on the features, which, I
though pole and sharp in death, were still j
beautiful. The hands were meekly clasped
i holding a bibletothe bosom, it was the j
i corpse of Margaret Bowen,
j They laid Iter in a still, quiet cottier of j
the old church-yatd, where tall pines wailed
their mournful music over her, and the I
sound of a gentle brook was heard day and ;
night. But her erring parent sleeps far |
aw ay from her side. After years of sufler
ing he found rest in a public burial ground. ;
He died in the P Hospital. Happy j
for his angel daughter that she perished ig
] norarit alike of his crimes and of his rctri- ;
! butive fate.
! p—rggnm i llll ■t- t • swm
j fi g U
j The mistake of a night, or the Deaf Widow. 1
—The following ludicrous story, which we j
| copy from an English paper might not in- (
aptly be called “ The Mistake of a Night, ‘
or the Deaf Widow.” Wiiethei the nar
rative be true, or even “founded on fact,”
of course we cannot say ; it is amusing cer
i tainly, and carries w ith it the moral of “all’s
j well that ends well.”
There dwells in the city of Bath, a very
| respectable lady, the widow of a dignitary j
I of the’church. .She is a universal favor- j
I ite with all the young people who have the ‘
| pleasure of her intimacy, and no wonder \
| that she is so —the goodness of her heart, the !
j equanimity of her temper her gay, cheerful ;
| ]i is posit ion, and tie glace, ease, Mid dignity j
I of her manners, although belonging to an j
! (dd school, tender her society mote accept- \
i aide arid agreeable than that ofmany females 1
having greater advantages in possessing
youth and beauty, but destitute of the charm j
| of good nature and good breeding, which j
di tiugui.'hcsthe conveisation of Mrs. W . j
j The old lady is, however a little deaf, and j
j upon a consequence of this infirmity hinges j
| our story. A glluut lieutenant colonel in
j the service of her most gracious Majesty,
: was equally celebrated for*his devotion to
i the fair sex, and for his btavety in the field,
i The fascination of his maimers, and the
beauty of his person t endered him a dan
! gerous enemy to the peace of many a fair
] bosom, but no one evut heard that Col. A
| ever made a serious proposal. In the
words of Miss Edgeworth, he was a male
jilt, or masculine coquette ; but he always so
managed matteis, that, whatever pangs lie
inflicted, be always escaped the expressed
indignation of the ladies, and the significant
remonstrance of fathers and brothers.—
Such was Col. A , when he paid a vis
it to the renowned city of Bath.
I Os course, such a dittinguislyd person
j age was received with open arms into the
I best society of such a gay place as tiie city
of King Bladud, hut, by some accident he
had not bad the honor of an introduction to
the worthy widow we have mentioned.—
The gallant Colonel had commenced in Bath
that system of general flirtation he had so
successfully practised elsewhere, lrt vain
the ladies sighed, the Colonel was not to
be had—and he continued his gay career, ns
reckless of the mortification aud misery he
had caused, as il he had been really an ut.-
j principled man instead of beingonly unthink
ing and vain.
Now, out worthy widow gave a ball, to
which, of course, all the e/itc of Bath were
i invited, lo this ball did Col.A accompa
| ny a friend, tho’ not himself invited, it being
\ understood that the widow would receivethe
j friends without the regular formality of in
| vitations. ’I lie Colonel looked forward to
• the pleasure of flit ting with half the pretty
\ gills in Bath. Poor man ! lie little knew
’ what was hanging over his devoted head, j
, j As soon as he entered the reception room a I
j general whisper attested the notoriety or
| fame of the new comer, and unfortunately
I two winds caught the ear of the widow—
“general lover.” The Colonel and his
friend made their way to the lady of the
mansion, who was surrounded by a crowd
of friends; the gallant officer was intro
duced, hut the widow being deaf, his name
did not reach the tympanum of her ear.—
Judge, if you can, of the Colonel’s horror
when he was addressed as General Lover!
The widow belonged to that old school
of politeness which considered individual
I introduction necessary, and General Lover,
| Mr. Harcourt—Mr.Hurcourt, General Lov
. er—General Lover, Miss Hardcastle—
! Miss Hardcastle, General Lover—sounded
i through the loom in the widow’s clearest
j and loudest voice. 1 here was r.o possibili
-1 ty of mistaking the name ; the lady’s deaf
| ness hat become infinitely worse since
j morning! no explanation could stop her
! rapid introduction of General Lover to her
; numerous friends. No merely human inus- !
j cles could stand this—a geuearal roar of
laughter pervaded the room, and the poor
Colonel broke away from the widow, and j
j rushed from the loom in an agony of morti
| fication. Ftom that day Col. A ceased;
his flirtations, but he was too fine a fellow to ‘
1 he allowed to remain a bachelor, and his
s<d ump mmiß si mas©ibilil ast h*
wife blessed the day when she made Gener
al Lover a Benedict. — J\i w- \or% Sia ■
A Neic Kigro Nation. — From an extract
published in the Albany Argus, and derived
from the Nurative of Mr. V. ilson, a mission
ary in Africa, we learn that he has discov
ered a nation of Ethiopians never before
seen or described by any white man. Mr.
Willson is stationed at the Gaboon River,
which empties into *he Atlantic, about twen
ty miles north of the Equator.
The mission is at the mouth of the river,
but having a fine opportunity, Mr. Wilson
accompanied Toko, a distinguished negro
merchant, up the Gaboon and its tributary,
the Big Orotnbo, to Kobangai’s town, fifty
miles from the ocean, on the Bawke.n brain It
of tiie BigOrotnbo. This was as far up the
i ivi ias l:t; ascended. Yv bile there, lie met
with anew nation < f Africans, “some of
whom were said to come five days journey
and others tenor twelve days journey from
the interior” —that is from SOO to 400 miles
fioni the sea coast, lie calls them the Tang
ice people,because they came front the direc
tion iti which a country of that name lies
The distance from tiie coast indicates that
they came from Ethiopia; and possibly
that this people may spread over the vast
unknown legion of Africa.
Thu existence and use of iron of their
own nianufactute, scents very reinatkablc,
and philosophers would say, indicates an
advanced state of civilization, for it is known
that a bathamus or savage people nev
er have imn of then own manufacture until
it lias first been introduced by the whites.
The tiou-exi.-tence of slavery and the slave
trade among them shows a feature still
more distinctive from the ordinary Afri
can.
Wo ate furnished by the Argus with the
follow ing passage from the journal of Mr.
Wilson :
“During our short sojourn in this place,
we met with a number of men entirely dif
ferent in their features and general appear
ance from those in this part of the country,
some of whom were said to have come five,
aud others ten or twedve days journey from
the interior. They were known by the
name of the I’angwe people. They were
on a visit to this pait of the country, w hich
is as near to the sea coast as they have ven
tured. Hearing of us at this place, they
came in considerable numbers to see u
white man and old ‘1 oko, one of whom w as
as much an object of curiosity as the other.
Those whom we saw, both men and wo
men, were vastly superior in their personal
appearance to the maritime tr ibes, and if
they may beiegarded as a fair specimen of
their people, 1 should have no hesitation in
pronouncing them the finest Africans whom
I have ever met with. They wear no cloth
ing, except a piece of cloth made of the in
ner baik of a tree. This is drawn between
the legs and fastened around tiie loins by a
cord. Nor do they covet cloth. On the
other hand they jeer the bushmen of this re
gion, hv telling them they wear cloth to
conceal theii personal defects and their ex
ternal diseases. Both men and women
braid their hair with a great deal of taste.—
U he women braid the hair on the forepart
of the head in two rows, which lie over the
forehead not unlike the frill of a cap. That
on the back part is plated into five or six
braids which reach below the shoulders.
“The men are of medium staluro,remark
ably well formed, healthy in their appear
ance, and manly in their deportment. They
had knives, spears, traveling bags and other
aitieles of curious and ingetfous workman
ship, specimens of which we procured for a
very small quantity of beads. All of their
implements are made of iron of their ow n,
which is considered vastly superior to any
brought to the country by trading vessels.
They set no value upon cloth, and as yet
have never acquired a taste for tobacco*or
t urn. Beads powder and brass they prize
very highly, and were w illing to give any
thing they had for the smallest quantities of
either of these. 1 hey represent their coun
try as mountainous and healthful, and affirm
that cutaneous and other diseases common
to the maritime regions ate unknown among
them, ‘i key have never participated in the
slave trade, and regard it, as is by no means
unnatural in their circumstances, with the
utmost abhorrence.
“ One or two instances are known where
they visited attempts to enslave their peo
ple with signal vengeance. It is difficult to
define the limits and extent of their country.
Perhaps the most, westerly border of w hat
is known as the Pangwe territory was w ith
in one hundred and fifty miles of the coast,
and front thence it may extend many hun
dred miles into the interior, and possibly
spread itself ovet a large portionof the south
side of the Mountains of the Moon.
“ Their country is represented as immens
ly populous, but 1 could not learn that they
had any very large or powerful organizations.
They arc aware that vessels visit the oppo
site coast, and they affirm that they have
seen articles of merchandize brought from
that quarter. lam inclined to think that
the Pangwe people are emigrating in large
bodic-s towards the coast. It so the inter
mediate bushmen, weakened as thev are hv
the slave trade, must inevitably he supplan
ted.”
An Insane Comment ar if. — The Asylum
Journal sustains the recent order of Gen.
Scott, of the army, to trim whiskers and re
trench soap locks. Asa counterblast from
such a quarter, against the “ liair-Lrained”
tendencies of fashion, must be interesting,
we copy the paragraph.
“ Attention to personal appearance is one
of the first indications of restored intellect;
and we rejoice to see one symptom of le
mming reason in the officers of the Army.
We may he singular in our notions, hut the
ptacticc of wearing long hair and mous
taches, appear to our diseased imaginations,
disgusting and unchristian ; and if we “ cra
zy people” should be found Wearing such
uncommon excrescences, it would he taken
as an infallible sign of disordered intellect,
(or want of it) —and we should have to sub
mit to an operation before being admitted
into the society of the “ truly insane.” Yet,
among the self-styled sane there are many
gentlemen (?) whose long, greasy locks
“sigh in the breezes,” and who think them
a badge of gentility.”
Daniel Webster at Bunker Hill. —We
shall never forget the scene which we saw
that day. There is a picture we shall nev
er lose in our remembrance. It was the fig
ure oj Dannf I! ibstcr as he stood before that
monument. \\ e have seen painting, and
gazed upon glorious Maturity. But we never
saw such a form as Mr. Webster presented
at times, while delivering that oration—the
crowning effort, probably, of his life, in the
department of occasional discounts. None
of the published reports —not even the ver
sion revised by himself—do any tiling like
justice to many passages of the oration, ns
they came impiessive and burning from his
lips. Probably about one-third of his dis
course—as for example thestrictly historical
passages, utid the contrast between the con
dition oft he people of the UTiion and ofSoulh
America, arising from the different systems
and principles of their colonization—was
written out; and Mr. Webster had brief
notes of the residue. But to those he late
ly refeneil; nnd there were passages in the
delivery of which —breaking away from all
restraints of closet prepaiation.and kindling
with his theme, lie rose with power and
majesty of expiessiott surpassed only by the
grandeur of the theme, aud the proud col
umn by his side.
One of the passages—and we have space
to refer to no more —was his sublime apos
trophe to Washington—the father of the
venerable group of survivors of the Revolu
tion by whom he was surrounded—the fa
ther of his country. We sat in a position
upon the stage to take in a full view of the
person of the orator, and the monument, at
a glance. We saw the man grow before
our eyes into the transcendant orator. As
lie rose with his subject, his form assumed
a p(||t majestic as the subject of his eulogy,
and with his soul upon his lips embodying
tiie character of his own mind. The expert
stenographer might indeed catch the words
but the lolly aud soul-kindling manner—the
expression—cannot he written. Those
who have heard Mr. Webster only at the
bar, and on ordinary occasions, can form
but.feeble conceptions of the out-pouring of
bis spirit at that sublime monument. There
be stood, like the shaft of which lie spake,
conveying to all beholders the idea of “ in
nate strength—of the repose whieh is imaged
rn tic mile when the tempest is around it.” —
N. \. Commercial.
Head and Hand Labor. —The Bangor
Whig has the following excellent remarks
on the subject oflabot :
A\ hat hone st vocation can be named that
does not contribute, in a greater or less de
gree, to the enjoyment of men ? Il may be
humble indeed, but it does to swell the
mighty aggregate; it may be the rill that
trickles from the mountain side, but it diffu
ses fertility through the valley, and mingles
its drops at last with the ocean. The true
American motto is and must be, marked
upon our foreheads, written upon our door
posts, channeled in the earth, and wafted
upon the waves— lndustry — Labor is hon
orable and idleness is dishonorable, and I
care not if it be labor, whether it be the
head or the hands. Away with the miser
able jargon of the political economists, who
write so completely about the ptoducing
arid non-producing-classes. It has no foun
dation in nature or experience. Whitney,
whose cotton gin doubled the value of eve
ry acre of land in the South, raised more
cotton with his head than twenty men ever
raised with their hands. Let me exhort
those of you who are devoted to intellectual
pursuits to cherish, on your part, an exalted
and a just idea of the dignity and value of
manual labor, and to make that opinion
known in your works and seen in the near
est of your action. The laboring men in
this country arc vast in numberarid respect
able in character. We owe to them, un
tier Providence, the most gladsome specta
cle the sun beholds in its course —a land of
cultivated and feitile fields, an ocean white
with canvass. We owe to them the annual
spectacle of golden harvests, which carry
plenty and happiness alike to the palace and
the cottage. We owe to them the fortress
es that guard our coasts —the ships that have
home our flag to every clime, that carried
the thunder of our cannon triumphant over
the waters of the deep.
Letter from Father Mathew. —The fol
lowing letter from this distinguished advo
cate of temperance, in answer to an address
from the Pennsylvania Catholic Total Ab
stinence Society, was read at the celebra
tion of the society on the 4th instant, in Phil
adelphia :
Cork, May 27th, 1813.
Dear beloved friend: —To say that I am
gratified, delighted, with your affectionate
address, would but feebly convey my feel
ings. My heart throbs with rapture whilst
1 read over again and again, every cheering
line of it. O, that I could command the
wings of the morning to waft myself at once
into the midst of you, to embrace you all,
and to announce to you glad tidings of great
joy from old Ireland.
The privilege of paying you an early vis
it is, I regret to say it, denied to me ; but I
indulge the fond hope, God permitting, of
passing a few days in Philadelphia at no
distant period.
Your zeal in our sacred cause is well
known to me ; you are a bright gem in the
Temperance crown, and I have only to ex- !
liort you to perseverance until I come.—
Strong (1 rink, in any shape or form you are j
to renounce forever, and may the blessing j
of the Lord upon the heads of the Reclta
bites descend also upon you. Each of you, j
my dear brother Teetotallers, I salute most j
affectionately, and I present, through you, j
my cordial greeting to every one of the j
twenty-nine thousand, that glorious body,
by whom you have been delegated.
Fervently imploring the Great Bestower 1
of all good to confer on you every spiritual j
aud temporal blessing.
I am, dear brethren,
Your’s, most affectionately,
Tn non Aim Matuew.
*
A Foivl Editor. —A Mr. Ilenn has just
started anew paper in lowa. He says, he
hopes by hard scratching to make a firing
for himself and his little chickens. We hope j
he will look out and feather his nest.
Persevere—Never Despair—Ch how to get
o, Breakfast. —It is truly remarked in the
New York Atlas, that every body encoun
ters difficulties andtrials in tlieirearly strug
gles for fame and fortune—some very severe
ones. The weak hearted are sure to miss
the goal of their ambition —the persevering
almost sure to attain it. There have been
few men of eminence who have not been in
the greatest difficulties, hut they fainted not.
.Some years ago, two gentlemen met on
a bright bracing morning, Their appetites
were as sharp ns the weather. Neither of
them had breakfasted, and though one of
them was of a very poetic temperament,
there was ul that time no subject so sweet
as coffee and roils—the things for which he
was yearning.
“ Lend ne a shilling,” said he to his com
panion and I will static! the breakfast.”
A shilling ! but a shilling! to administer
to the w ants of these gentlemen and to keep
! them from the pangs of hunger! But their
j pockets w ere guiltless of the possession of
j any coin of the tealin.
“1 haven’t a shilling,” said-the person
| addtessed, but there’s a man I set up in a
j coffee house some time ago. We can get
j breakfast there. It’s a mile oft’, though - ”
They made nothing of the distance ; and
; in the course of time, arrived at the coffee
; house.
“ Two cups of coffee and two hot rolls,”
said the last speaker.
Il was brought—but as soon ns it was
placed on the table the money was demand
ed.
“O charge it to me, Mr.
“ Never give credit.” “No trust chalked
over the counter,” growled the fellow, and
the coffee and hot rolls which hadbeeti placed
under the noses of the hungry” gentlemen
were removed.
“ What’s to be done ?” cried one. They
pondered a moment and then the coffee
keeper’s patron said—
“Do you write a song, and I’ll set it to
music.”
J he poet wrote one verse, and the musi
cian set it to music while his friend was com
posing the second. The two now started
to Walker’s music store in Soho Square,
London, and offered for sale the production.
“ Play it over,” said the publisher. * ‘
The musician played and sang it.
“ I’ll give you a guinea for it.”
It was readily taken, and the two w-ent
back to the coffee house, regaled themselves
heartily, and gave the ungrateful proprietor
Ia leetuie whieh would have been death tea
sensitive man, but which was, of course, lost
upon him.
The one is now the most popular singer
of the age, and the other is one of the editors
of the London Morning Chronicle.
Love of Gain. — It is astonishing what an
influence the love of gain exercises over the
| human character. It is related by histnri- j
• atis, or by tradition, we are not positive j
j which, that during an obstinate engagement
I between the Dutch and English fleets in the
1 17th century,commanded by Admirals Blake
and be Ruvter, a cessation of hostilities for
a few hours, was tacitly agreed on by both j
the beligerent parties, to give them an op
portunity to repair damages. The Captain
of a largo English ship finding his ammuni
tion neatly expended,sent a flag nftiuceon
board of his opponent, with a polite request
that lie would sell him some powder and
shot! The Admiral, fortunately for the
Englishman, was well supplied, and was
j unwilling to lose so favorable an opportu
nity of making an excellent bargain. He
accordingly furnished the amount required,
at fifty per cent, advance on the ordinary
price—and laughed in his sleeve —yes, ab
solutely chuckled—to thinkhow he had gull
ed the simple Englishman. The engage
ment was soon after resumed—the Dutch
! man was completely riddled with his own
| shot, and compelled to surrender!
j The Yankees also have been accused of
j being slaves of trafic—and it is on all bauds
I acknowledged that they are somewhat
shrewd at making a bargain. It is seldom
that they refuse to trade with a person be
cause they fear the article which they sell
i will he injurious to tiie purchaser, or to so
! ciety. Their consciences are easily quiet
ed. It is none of their business ! It is thus
that slavedealers in Cuba have been furnish
ed at an enormous price with fast sailing
j vessels, suitable for their purpose—it is thus
| that pirates in Havana became proprietors
|of vessels of a peculiar description,by which
they were enabled to carry on a war of the |
most cruel and sanguinary nature against in- j
dividuals, belonging to the nations which j
supplied them with the means. Hence men !
who are classed among the worthy and re
spectable have increased their worldly stock,
and acquired affluence by furnishing the
poor Indians with Alcohol, that liquid fire
which will soon exterminate their race—
and hence men, who pride themselves on
I their honesty and moral worth, who go reg
; ularly to church, and profess to fulfil scru-
I pulottsly all the duties incumbent on a Phi
lanthropist and a Christian, for a trifling
gain, engage in manufacturing, and supply
ing, and dealing out to their infatuatec fel
low-creatures this abominable beverage.—
Boston Mercantile Journal.
Extraordinary power of the human Will.
—A long time ago, says the Ciescent City,
wo recollect hearing of some experiments
performed by two ancient graduates of
L’Ecole Poly technique. A drop of quick
silver hermetically sealed in a small nut
ehell, covered with wax, and attached to a
thread, on being held over a parcel of dimes,
placed in a straight line, will move from one
end of the silver to another, and its motion
can be stopped by a mere effort of the will.
If this ball be held over a gold watch, a ro
tary movement can be obtained, and the mo- j
lion reversed by the action of ‘themind alone ! j
A similar experiment lias often been tri
ed, by holding a string between the fingers,
to the cud of which string a piece of silvet
money is suspended in a tumbler. By an
effort of tho will alone, the money can he
made to strike the time of day against the
sides of the glass. The mind must be well j
concentrated, however.
Virtue dwells not upon the tip of the
tongue, but in the templo of a purified j
heart.— Seneca. ;
An exciting scene at an Ordination.— h
appears from a report in the New York
Express that a scene of some interest took
place at St. Stephens Church, on Sunday
lust, during the ordination by Bishop Onder
donk, of eleven young gentlemen as minis,
tors in the Protestant Episcopal church -J
The service was read by the Rev. Dr. Be,,
tien, and the setmon was preached by ft.
bishop. After be had concluded, the eleven
candidates stood around the altar, when he
announced, as is customary, that he was
about to ordain them, and requested that if
there were any person or persons who had
any objections to make, or knew o u<>ht
against them, they would now announce tho
same. A moment of silence ensued, when
the Rev. Hugh Smith (of St. Peter’s,) rose
| in the middle aisle, and stated that he had
i l> y letter informed the Bishop that he should
I protest against the ordination of one of th e
| candidates, Mr. Carey, in consequence of
j j'H holding opinions favorable to Roman
ism ; and he did now accordingly protest
When he sat down the Rev. Mr. Anthon, of
St. Mark’s church, who had been sitting in
the same pew with Mr. Smith,also rose,and
in like manner protested against the ordina
tion of Mr. Carey, for the same reason.
Bishop Ondertlonk staled that he had re
ceived the objections of the Rev. gentleman
and had in consequence appointed six com
petent and worthy persons to examine into
tiie charge which had been made against Mr.
j Carey, and they had unanimously repotted
to him that it was unfounded ; and that also
was his own conviction, and that he should
proceed to ordain all the candidates. 11 0
then commenced reading the prayer, and
during the ceremony Messrs. Smith and Au
liioti both arose and left the church.
How to Mesmerize Yourself. —The Phila
delphia Mercury furnishes some very valua
ble bints on this pregnant topic. Its receipt
j is as follows :—Take a piece of charcoal
and make a round black spot on a white
wall, then take your scat ou a chair, about
six feet oft - , and fix your eyes steadfastly uo
on the spot. Ifyou are of a nervous, exci
table temperament, you will fall into what
is called the Mesmeric sleep in about the
same time that a magnetizer would require
to produce the same effect. This experi
ment ami similar ones have been successful
ly tried, and tliey prove, beyond a doubt,
that the “ mysterious fluid” is all moonshine;
the pretended Mesmeric sleep being caused
by fatigue of the optic nerve and of that por
tion of the brain with which it is connected.
As for seeing through the top of the head.
&c., that never was done unless the skull
had Some cracks in it!
Declaration if Independence. —7’his docu
ment, as appears from a printed copy in this
office of the Secretary of State, transmuted
to tho Convention of North Carolina, in
1777, by John Hancock, nnd bearing liis
signature, in his own hand writing, as
President of the Congress of’7G was origin
ally printed by a woman—tliete were wo
men in those days—Mary Catharine God
dard. No wonder that that glorious decla
ration was successfully maintained by the
gallant spit its of the Revolution.— Oxford,
(N. C.J Mercury.
Something New. —The wise man said,
“ There is nothing new under the sun.”—
Had he lived in these days, he would proba
bly have changed his opinion. The last
new thing we find in the Pittsburg Ameri
can, which says : “ At Cincinnati tliey have
commenced the manufacture of a very neat
and useful article of floor and hearth cloth
from hog’s bristles, or hair. They are first
softened by emersion for a given time in
lard oil, and then spun and wove into cloth,
with the different arrangements of natural
colors that fancy dictates.”
A Dinner worth haring —A gentleman
residing in the city invited his children —
three daughters and a son, to dine with him
on the Fourth of July. In the course of
the meal, (which we presume was one wor
thy of the celebration of Independence in
every sense of the word,) a package was
placed before each of the four, containing
securities to the amount of two hundred
thousand dollars, making of course, in the
aggregate, eight hundred thousand dollars.
This truly generous patent had_already, as
we learn, bestowed liberal allowances upon
h s children. We need hardly add,that they
are at rived at years of discretion, and can
appreciate the affection, confidence, and mu
nificent spirit vviclt prompted the gift.—
Large as it was, the father retains an ample
fortune for his own enjoyment.—Philadil
phia American.
Eggs, as a Remedy. —The white of an egg
is said to be a specific for fish-bones stick
in the throat. It is to be swallowed raw,,
and will carry down a bone very easily and
certainly. There is another fact touching
eggs vviclt will do very well to remember.
When, as sometimes by accident, corrosive
sublimate is swallowed, the white of one or
two eggs, taken immediately, will neutral
ize tho poison and change tho effect to that
of a close of calomel.
Chinese method of mending Chinn. —Ttike
a piece of flint glass, beat it to a fine pow
der, and grind it well with the white of an
egg, aud it joins china Without riveting, so
that no art can break u in the same place.
You are to observe that the composition is
to be ground extremely fine on a painter's
stone.
Kreosote. —Dr. Boardmun of Hartford
Connecticut, lost his life on tho 2oth inst.
from taking this dangerous nostrum for the
toothache. A particle of it got into his throat,
and caused such inflamation as to stop tho
breathing passage. If a regular physician
cannot safely take it himself, certainly it is
a dangerous article for others to use.—Cap
itol.
Not Bad. —A sand-bank once caved in
and covered up a Mr. Knowledge. As
bis friends were engaged in digging for
him, a passer-by inquired wliat tliey were
doing ? “We are in pursuit of Knowledge
under difficulties,” was tho reply. A hu-i
rnorous pun upon a very grave subject,