Newspaper Page Text
Yu .
■■ - “——■*■""! -~~~~.~rrr
WILLIS ON BEARDS.
K. F. Willis who seems lo aspire to no
higher fame than to be considered a sen t <>f
literary mi/incr-Jraper, end who prides him
self opon h.ia familiar acquaintance with nil
this little matters of dress and personal fix
ture, not- long slime gave his icaJers a* chap
ter n*r.*licTOtseftes atd Indies’ slippers.—
More recently he has given us something
more masculine, “which, for the edification
of those who are ambitious of oping the
metropolitan ton in the style of their facial
ornaments, we trgnsfei to our columns ;
** Two schools of dress have prevailed in
France for the last six or seven years, the
Classic and the Romantic —the former with
the Brutus head, short hair, and apparel of
severe simplicity-; and the other with (low
ing lock*, fanciful beard, and great snniptu- ;
ousnes&ef cravat and waistcoat. lbe’Ro- j
ntaniic’ i* the only one which has ‘ come j
over,’ and it prevails at present in New Yoi k (
• with a rush/ Almost every man below j
forty lias tried tiis beard on, and most of the
yfnimx Hum about town show their fancy in
something- beyond the mere tooth-brush
wjldsiarr of the military. The latter, by-the
way, ts the only beard * let out’ hy the Lon
don men whom the packets tiring over, and
in England the synonyme is rigorous be- J
tween ‘ moustache’ and * adventurer” It ,
seems to me, however, that the principles |
of taste which should affect the fushion of a j
heard are but little regarded among us; and ,
t. lather wptidcr that some ambitious barbet ;
has not set himself up as an authority to de- !
cide-tlnni-shape by private consultation, ac- i
cording tp feature and complexion. Per
haps I may .hied a want of the era hy put
ting-down wlkv{ I have gathered on the sub
ject of beard* by reading and travel.
. In a country where all the hair which
Nature has planted on the face is permitted j
to grow, a shaved man certainly looks very
silly. After a short passage from Asia Mi- !
nor to Malta, the clean shaved English ofFi- i
nets struck iffe as a very denuded and incx- j
prossivc looking race, though much nvre |
athletic and handsome than the Orientals 1
hid left. The beards of old men particu j
larly, arc great embellishments, covering, as j
they do, the mouth, which most shows age ]
and weakness hy loss of teetli and feeble- j
tress of muscle. When the mouth is cover- j
ed. the whole expression of the face is con- i
centrated in the eye, and it is surprising how |
much the eye gains in character and brillian- |
cy by a full moustache. A luxuriant and j
silky beard on a young and clear skin is cer- j
tainlr very beautiful, though, according to ,
medical observation, the faculties are much ;
better matured when the beard comes late, j
In bearded countries the character is very j
much judged of by the beard. i here is an
old Irish proverb which says :
” Trust not that man, although he were your brother’ |
Whore hair ’s-one color and his beard another.”
In irritablfe persons the benid grows thin
and dry. In those of milder temper it is
thick and slightly curling. The beard is af
fected very sensibly by the nature of a man’s
nourishment; cud this explains why they
know an aristocrat in the “East by ‘ho luxu
riance of this appendage—poor food dele
riorating its quality. Diplomatists should
always wear the moustache, as it is much
easier to control the expression of lire eye
than of the mouth —useful to card-players
and stock-brokers, for the same reason
Shaving among the ancients was a mark of
mourning—though at the era when beards
were .out of fashion they were let grow by
those wlm had lost fiierids. When a man’s
mouth is beautiful and expressive, the beard
which covers it is a disadvantage ; and we
may guess that Scipio Afiicanus (the first
Roman who shaved every day) wore in his
Ups the tenderness and magnanimity which
he displayed towards the bride of the cap
tive Allueius. The first shaving barber was
one Ticinius Mcenos, who came from Sicily
to Rome about three bn ml red years before
Christ; and then commenced an era of
smooth chins, interrupted for a short while
only by th Empex.r Adrian, v*hr wore liis
beard to conceal warts on Itis chin. With
most nations the heard lias been considered
tin ornament. Moses commanded the Jews
not to shave, and the ancient Germans and
the Asiatics of a later day have considered
no insult so mortal as the cutting off of one
man** beard by another. In France shav
ing came into fashion during the reigns of
Ennis XIII. and XIV., both of tliese mon
nrchs having ascended the throne when
beardless, and their subjects imitating them,
of course. And os France gave the law of
fashion to all Europe, the sacrifice of a part
of the beard grew to lie common, though it
is only since ihe beginning of the last centu
ry that the sharing of the whole beard be
came universal.
I have noticed in New-Yoik that men
who bad formeily no pretentions to good
look's have become very handsome by wear
ing of moustache and imperial, and l have
seen handsome men disfigured by adopting
the same fashion. The effect of a mous
tache and full beaid is to make the face
more masculine, graver, and courser, ami
this is of course, an improvement to one
whose features are over-delicate, or whose
expression is 100 frivolotls. On a dapper
man it is quite out of place, and he should
wear a clipped whisker, if any beaid at all.
The beard I think, gives a middle aged look,
nnd makes a man of twenty look older, and
a man of forty younger. The ladies like a
beard, natuiall/’ thinking faces effeminate
which are as smooth as llteir own, and not
objecting to the distinctions which Nature
made between the sexes. When the
beard is hut partially worn, some arlisiicul
knowledge should Ire called in, as a short
face may be made longer, and n broad face
narrower, a gay face graver, and an undeci
ded chin put in domino. Bui of ull abomi
patioqs- ip this way, 1 think the goat’s heard,
■growing goder the chin only, is the most
brutal and disgusting, though just now, in
New Y ork, rather the prevailing fashion.—
he mistake in taste is very common of con
tinuing-to wear a high -shirt . cojlar and cra
vat with'a beafd’ttnthe cheek and throat—
the beauty of a curling beard depending
verv njuch uq its freedom and natural adap
istion to the mould of the face. There are
more people lliun Beatrice, of course, who
are willing to let a man’s beaid he “of the
color that God pleases but there are oth
ers wlm have aversions to'red beards and
yellow, and there is great trade in cirages
and gums for the improvement of color and
texture. Most of the beards yon meet in
Broadway glitter in the sun like steel filings.
Altogether I think the fashion of wearing
ihe beard is a desirable one, and I particu
larly wish.it would prevail among old'men.
A bearded Senator would make a wiser and
more reverent show in Congress, and any
thing which conceals the decrepitude of age
and moves respect, (as beards certainly do
both,) is most desirable.
THE MEASURE OF DAMAGES.
Doe vs. Roc.- — Judge Swain on the Bench. —
Georgia — Emanuel Count)’. —This was an
action for the recovery of damages, in a
cause which originated in the following cir
cumstances J
Roe, the defendant, was a man far advan
ced in life—having been born himself, and
afterwards reared up many children, in
Emanuel county, and still having, at the
time this suit was ponding, several small
boys in bis family. He also bail some good
dogs about him, as every farmer should
have ; two mischiev urrgosts which he found
it necessary to keep chained together ; and
an old gray mare, which was the only lega
cy, in I lie shape of property, he received
from liis father. This old mare had been
the only “ mill-horse” of the defendant’s fa
ther, doting his lifetime ; and since she had
descended to the son and heir of iter fir
mer owner, site had been regularly employ
ed, once a week, to carry the grain to, and
bring the meal from the mill, without a ri
der or guide.’ And it was her unvarying !
custom, so soor. as the. bag of grain was pla
ced upon her back, to set out for the mill,
where, when site arrived, and the miller had
taken the bag—the two being old acquain
tances —she would browze about until the
meal was ready, and the miller would call
her up and replace the hag, and oft* she
would go towards home ! And in addition
to these general circumstances, the defend
ant, as it appeared hy the testimony, had
uniformly through life taught his younger
children the habjt and importance of wash
ing their feet every evening before going to
bed—contending that it was both healthy
and cleanly for boys who went barefoot in
sitmmer. And it was proved on trial of the
cause, that on the night (which was n very
dark one) of the occurrence which gave rise
to this suit, while two of the defendant’s
boys were engaged in washing their feet at
the door of the dwelling—the dogs, the
goats and the old gray mare all quietly re
posing in the yard about tlie premises—
there arose a dispute and at length a scuffle
between them ; and Bill, more in jest than
in earnest, hiss’d the dogs at Ned ; and the
dogs imagining, it was thought, that it was
an intimation from their master to keep a
sharp lookout for intruders on his premises,
leaped to their fret and set up a tremen
dous barking, running at the same time, by
accident, itt the direction of the goats, which
latter, in the judgement of the Court, sup
posing that they were theobjcctsofthedogs’
pursuit,jumped totheirfeet, and, by chance,
it was contended by the defendant’s coun
sel, ran in the direction of the old gray mate!
t,:ul, as admitted by all parties, very mys
teriously rsnged themselves, one on each
side of her, vviii>- in a recumbent position
—the chain which L’mfnd them together pass
ing up over her back-Lone until it reached
her withers, where it stopped —and it was
strongly argued by counsel that this latter
operation must have suddenly aroused the
mare from her quiet slumbprs, and before
she hud time to receive her full senses she
rose toher feet, and finding something like
a bag of grain across her back and at her
sides, she deliberately set out for the mill,
as was her custom !
Arriving at the mill at a late hour of the
night, tlie old marc contrived to make noise
enough about the door to awaken the mil
ler’s wife—her husband being absent, as
she herself testified on the trial—anil she
arose, and with a lighted candle in her hand,
approached and opened the door. Struck
with nmnzement and fright at the firstnp
pearatice of the old mare, with the goats
suspended at her sides, she screamed, drop
ped the candle, and ran into her own apart
ment ; anil in a few minutes the mill was
consumed by fire, communicated by ‘.lie can
dle which had been dropped on the floor by
the miller’s wife.
It was held that the owner of the old mare
was liable to the miller for damages, and
the only question in the case was, “ What
should be the measure thereof]'’ After a
tedious investigation and many learned ar
guments, his honor Judge Swain was una
ble to decide, and he afterwards canied it,
ncm con, per sc, to the Legislature, where
it was laid under the table !— Picayune.
• Threatened Destruction of the Mormons. —
The Hawkeye, published at Burlington, lo
wa, contains the following start ling announce
ment in relation to Joe Smith and liis fol
lowers. Should the pioposed Convention
be lawless and rash enough (says the Ken
tuckian) to carry out the measures sugges
ted, we feel too confident of the firmness of
Gov. Ford, to doubt for a moment liis
promptitude in affording Ids citizens milita
ry protection against suiJi unauthorized
aggression. What is more, Gov. Ford's
boundless popularity in the State over which
he presides, will secure for any requisition lio
may make upon the militia of Illinois, un
hesitating obedience.
Anti- Mormon Convention. — Delegates
front .several of the lower counties on the
Military Tract will convene at Carthage on
Tuesday, Wednesday nnd Thursday next,
to take into consideration the propriety of
adopting defensive measures in relation to
the Mormons. The late refusal on the part
of Gov. Ford to issue anew writ in com
pliance with the requisition of the Gov. of
Missouri, for Joseph Smith, has awakened a
spirit which we fear may end in bloodshed.
The Missourians, 20,000 in number, it is
said, stand ready to co-operate with the ll
linoians. It is expected there will he a
great crowd at Carthage on the occasion.
S (Dm DQBIB'R SHU S3® IB IHLAPHa
Burning Forest.— ln what is called the
Pine Plains of Lower Canada, <?nst of the
St. Lawrence, a fire lias been raging, equal
iti extent and grandeur to any heretofore
seen in the celebrated Hartz Mountains.—
The settlements in the vast forest of the
Pine Plaint are very few, and I u'idrei's
of miles are covered with a groyvth of
thickly planted trees, pine and cedar, filled
with inflammable matter, into the heart df
which man has never penetrated. In con
sequence of the long drought in Canada, ev
ery thing in those vnst forest hs become
dry and parched ; and suddenly the flames
have hurst forth, aided by a strong wind and
thousands of acres are in a blaze. The
Montreal Courier says : “A kindled leaf,
born, by the wind, sufficed to create anew
flume among the parched tinder—like mate
rial of the finest; or a spark lodging on a
decayed stump instantly pioduced a flame,
which in its turn, sent forth thousands of
fiery messengers, which leaping from spot
to spot, soon communicated with the forest,
again to leap and crackle", and roar among i
the tall % ictims of its embrace :is far ns the j
eye can reach ; pillaring the horizon in 1
branchless,; barkless nakedness, spreads
thousands upon thousands of mighty pines,
some i barred nnd hlackned with’ the em
brace of tiie destroyei, others bleached with
the winds and rains of years. Upon those
plains, before the fire came, stood an ex
haustless mine of wealth. Masts for the
navy of an Empire for ages; and now the ,
green worm bores his way into the dead
timber, and the wood-pecker’s incessant tap
only breaks the silence of the solitude.—
The flames, with a rushing roar like the
flowing of a mighty stream, were pouring
across the plains, now rising, now falling,
like waves—dashing against the tall pines,
curling and climbing up their mighty height,
leaping from tree to tree, crackling, mid
mat ing, and rolling along as if it were Ihe
souls of ten thousand demons. In tlie dis
tance iay the blackened track of the fire,
which ever and anon gave foith a cloud of
sparks and glowed like a lake of lava : while
here and there a solitary stick as yetuneott
sumed, rent’d its pinacle of flame, a mass of
kindled charcoal, lo the very heavens ; and
then on every side tbe roaring of this mighty
furnace, every instant came the heavy gash
ing fall of timber, sweeping a course be
fore it, and illuminating the scene still more
brightly for a few seconds. Far away, in
rugged majesty, towards the bleached and
blackened sticks of this interminable waste,
now ruddy with the glow of flames—now
sinking into the deepest obscurity, and look
ing more desolately dark than ever—was
the whole desolate forest,presenting a scene
to behold, but not to describe.” It must
liave been a sublime spectacle,
Kovel reading. —The following beautiful
extract is from the last Boston Quartetly
Review. It is a part of the preface of Mr.
Brownson’s Review of Zanoni:
It is never good to excite the mind or the
heart overmuch, save when it can find im
mediate vent in actions which concern teal
life. A confirmed novel reader is always
morbid ; on some sides preternaturally sen
sitive, on others preternaturally callous ; ca
pable, it may be, of talking mush fine senti
ment, but wanting in that spiritual strength,
in that moral robustness, which is equal to
the performance of a useful but difficult part
in real life. The less fine sentiment we have
on our lips, the more genuine feelings we
have in our hearts ; and the more noble and
generous actions shall vve perform. He
who stops to sentimentalize about poverty,
will be the last to throw his cloak over the
tottered gabardine of the beggar.
This is, no doubt, all very antiquated,
and altogether old-fashioned. But we hope
,-?nr young friends, seated or. rich ottomans,
or reclining on the soft couch, with the last
new novel Still moist from the press, will
forgive this our snte-deluvianism. It is with
no vinegar visage, nor pietislic cunt, that
we tell them to throw that novel aside, to
arouse themselves from their indolence, nnd
go forth and devote the sensibilities of their
hearts, the richness of their fancies, and the
creativeness of their imaginations to the
great and noble work of relieving actual dis
tress, arid of upbuilding the cause of truth 1
and righteousness on earth. 0, my young
friends, there is not such an ovei plus ofeen
erous sentiment, of warm and noble feeling,
in this cold wintry world of ours, that you
have any to waste over a Paul Clifford, or a
JackSheppeid. No; go forth into real life,
and let your sensibilities flow out for the
actually poor and w retched ; let the tear, so
lovely in the eye of beauty, start at no ficti
tious woe. That poor mot her, by her dy
ing boy in that miserable hovel, needs it;
those poor children, ragged, inciusted with
filth, growing up to fill your penitentialies,
need it; the wrongs and outrages man is
every where inflicting on man, should call
it forth. Throw away the last new novel ;
go with me through these datk lanes, blind
courts, into these damp cellars, unfurnished
garrets, where poverty, vice and crime are
crowded together, layer upon layer, where
breeds tho corruption that pollutes our whole
moral atmosphere. Here my friends, is a
volume that may excite you ; here is a work
which you may read. Forget yotir luxury ;
forget your luxut inus ease ; blush for your
repinings, your sentimental whimperings,
your vapors and indigestion ; and reihem- j
her that you are men and women, and that
it is your business to make this earth a para
dise, nnd every human heart a meet temple
for the living God. Decidedly, my young
friends, you have no occasion to seek ex
citement in Jack Sbepperd, or in Ernest
Maltravers; decidedly, you have no time to
kill between dinner and the hour to dress !
for the evening lecture, the evening meet
ing, the theatre or the assembly. No; you i
have duties, high and solemn duties, and no
fine sentiment, no ability to talk sweetly and
pathetically of the last new novel, will weigh
one feather in your favor, if you arenottrue
to duty, in earnest to silence the groans of ,i
this nether world, and to deliver the whole
creation into the glorious “ liberty of the
sons of God.” i •
ftj* A trial of the atmospheric railway
took place on the Dublin and Kingston
line, on Saturday last, It was most suc
cessful, the carriages traveling upwards of
twenty tniles an hour.
The Supremacy of Law. —lt is the duty
es every American citizen sacrekly to sus
tain Law. Earth has never seen a despot
who rode upon a more fiery steed, swayed
a more bloody sceptre, or whojrampled up
on human rights with a more callous heart,
than Anarchy. It is in anarchy that death
on the pale horse may find an appropriate
antitype. Law is the essence of the Deity,
the genius of the Bible, the guardian angel
of humanity.
No matter what the public excitement—
no matter how intense the irritation, that
hand is indeed suicidal that would uulasli
tlie blood bounds of nnntchy for retribution.
When those furies sweep tlie streets, like
the midnight’s howling storm, they ore all
undistinguished in Ihe object of their deso
lation. Now tlie brothel is torn to frag
ments, and now the refined dwelling of pi
ety is sacked and burned. Tlie grogshop
blazes to-day—tho temperance hall to-mor
row. Now is demolished the theatre—Sa
tan’s temple; and the Church—God’s Sanc
tuary : Tlie Catholic priest is haunted hy
tlie mob this week, the protcslsnt clergy
man the next. To-day it is this editor who
has perpetrated this atrocious crime of ex
pressing an unpopular opinion—and to-mor
row it is liis neighbor who receives chas
tisement from these blind furies who have
usurped the guardianship of the press, anil
whom that vety press may have warmed
and nursed into life and venom.
Let then the sentiment be as immovable
as the eternal granite of the Rocky Moun
tains, that law must be and ever shall he
sustained. Let it be understood that Gov
ernment has resistless resources which it can
and will bring in requisition, if needful,
for tlie protection of its citizens. Let eve
ry t. ue patriot hold himself a volunteet—a
minute man to defend Law; and for iter
defence let him hold pledged, life,fortune
and sacred honor.
When we contemplate the gathering
millions filling our land, the mental darkness
and sensual passions of such vnst multi
tudes, the diversity in fortune which indus
try talent, and success, produce, the variety
of opinions and interest which must prevail,
we eatinot magnify the importance of sus
taining inviolable law.— Rev. J, C. Allot.
Literary Novelty. —Friday last, Punch
had the satisfaction of being present at Sig
nor’s farewell concert. He was exceeding
ly dtveited by the performances of that cle
ver violinist, which also reminded him of
ati idea that occasionally occurred to him
before, on liearingOld Bull, Listz, and other
professors of musical gymnastics.
He perceived that the talent of tliese
gentlemen lay principally in executing vari
ations on certain favorite airs ; that is in dis
joining their different portions, and filling
up the intervals with divers fantastical
and eccentiic movements of their ow n—
runs, shakes, and so forth ; thus interspeis
ing the original music, which was expres
sive of some sentiment, feeling, or state of
tnir.d, with passages which, having no
meaning tit nil, formed an agreeable contrast
to the melodies wherewith they were blen
ded.
Now, the idea that occurred to Mr. Punch
was, tlint the principle (so greatly to the
gratification of the public) acted upon by
the musicians, might be advantageously ap
plied to the sister ait of poetry. He thinks
that Shakspeare with variations would very
probably he received with great applause-
The variations, of course, should corres
pond iri expressiveness and intellectuality
to those above alluded to. For instance, let
the line to be varied be—
“ To be, or not to be ; that is the ques
tion.”
The theme might first ho recited entire,
and then treated as follows :
To be or not, fiddle ; to he, diddle ; that,
toornl; is, looial ; the question, lay.
Fiddle, fiddle, iddle, iddlc, tooral, looral,
lav.
Tooral, to he ; looral, or not; lay, to he ;
that is, fiddle ; the question, iddle de dee.
To, voddle ; be, doddle ; or, fol; not,
dol; to, de ; he, rol; that, ri; is, tol; the
question, de rido.
Yoddie doddle fol de rol. to be; hpy
down derry diddle dum, or not; whack rum
ti oodity, to be ; ho down, that; chip chow
cherry chow, is ; tra la la la ; the question.
Dong, dong, barum scarum divo, ques
tion.
Right fol de riddy, oody, bow, wow,
wow !
Drowning men will catch at a straw ;
and, considering the present declining state
of the drama, Punch seriously recommends
his suggestion to the notice of the managers.
Its adoption will doubtless astonish the
weak minds of many, to whom Shakspeare’s
sense, too strong for them, will be rendered
more palatable by dilution.— London Punch.
Working for a Living. —We find the fol
lowing excellent article in the “ Offering,”
edited by the factory girls in Lowel;
“From whence originated the idea that
it was derogatoiy to a lady’s dignity, or a
blot upon female character, to labor, and
who was the first to say, sneeringly, ‘Oh !
she works for a living !’ Surely, such ideas
and expressions ought r.ot to grow on re
publican soil. The time has been when
ladies of the first rank were accustomed to
busy themselves in domestic employment.
Horner tells us of princesses who used to
draw water from the springs, and wash
with their own hands the finest of the linen
of their respective families. The famous
Lucretia used to spin in the midst of her
attendants ; and tlie wife of Ulysses, after
tho seige of Troy, employed herself in weav
ing until her husband returned from Ithaca.”
The editor of the New York Tribune says
what all editors of public journals cannot
say : but if our contemporary remains an ed
itor until “tlie public shall get tired of his
services,” we feat the stick and rule will re
quire to he put to some use not intended, to
keep them from rusting. Hear him ; “It
is a great consolation to us that, whenever
the public shall be tired of us as an editor,
we cur. make a satisfactory livelihood at set
ting type or farming; so that wjiile our
strength lasts, ten thousand blockheads tak
ing offence at some article they did not un
derstand, could not drive qs into the Poor
House.”— -Boston Atlas.
Battle of Monmouth. —The 2Sth of June,
1778, was n great and rnemoiable duy iti
the Kalends of the infant American Repub
lic. For wise and good reasons the Eng
lish army left Philadelphia, with a train of
baggage twelve miles lone, for New York.
The latter city was held during this whole
Liberty war, this contest between mother
and daughter, by the unnatural mother.—
Washington left his huts at Valley Forge,
and in imitation of the Roman Consul who
opposed Asdrubal, made a bloody effort to
prevent the junction of the armies of his en
emy. He led his suffering soldiers towards
the sea shore. He sought his enemy and
met him on the sandy plains of Monmouth.
Washington wide winged,Clinton and Corn
wallis wide winged at, and around the vil
lages of Freehold and Englishtown ; and
fire hail is whistling far and wide upon those
burning plains, the great guns playing, and
the small, both vomiting fire and death.—
Gen. Lee is swept back on this w ing and
on that, and is like to be swept back utterly,
when Washington arrives in person and
speaks a word or two. “ Stand fast,” says
the Hero, “ stand fast, my boys, for the Vir
ginia and Maryland line will soon come to
your relief.” The hearts of the Ametican
soldiers leaped at the souud of their belov
ed, and, as they thought, invincible Chief,
and the armed mercenaries of a monarch
fell in units, tens and hundreds, beneath the
republican tire.
Washington, on his death-defying, old
and faithful while horse, galloped along the
line, waving his sword and cheering on his
men to the death struggle. The fierce pro
vincials wrestle with their oppressors, they
meet the soldiers of the mother country, and
hand to hand they close with them at wea
pon’s point. It was a bloody conjunction, or
rathet a conjunction of carnage, this battle
of Monmouth. Men of kinkred blood, men
speaking the same noble language, met in
the death grapple. It was indeed a bloody
conjugation. It was, I kill, thou kill, he
kills, we kill, you kill, they kill. Rut death
had other weapons of destruction. The sun
for seven days had been in the Boreal Crab,
the men were fighting by Fahrenheit’s ther
mometer, in ihe heal of 90 degrees. Many
of the combatants bit the dust and died un
scathed by sabre or shot. If Washington
was Fabius, in Oct. 1776 at the White
Plains, he was Marcellus at Monmouth.-
The honors of the day remained with him,
foi his enemy retreated in the night.
At the commencement of the Revolution
ary war, there lived at East Windsor, in this
State, a farmer of the name of Jocob Man
sell, aged 45 years. After the communica
tion by water between this part.of the coun
try and Boston was interrupted by the pos
session of Boston Harbor, by the British
lleet, Mansell was often employed to trans
port provisions by land, to our army lying
in the neighborhood of Boston. In the
summer of 1775, while thus employed, he
arrived within a few miles of the camp, at
Cambridge, with a large load, diawn bv a
stout ox team. In a pat tof the road, which
wassotnewhat rough, and where the traveled
path was narrow, he met two carriages, in
each of which was an American General
officer. The officer in the forward carriage,
when near to Munsell put his head out at
the window, and called to him in an author
stive tone —“ Damn you get out of the j.ath.”
Munsell immediately retorted, “ damn you,
1 won’t get out of tlie path—get out your
self.” After some further vain attempts to
prevail on Munsell to turn out, the officer’s
cartiage turned out. arid Munsell kept the
path. The other carriage immediately
came up, having been within bearing dis
tance of what bad passed ; and the officer
within it, put bis bend out at the window,
and said to Munsell—“my friend, the road
is bad, and it is very difficult for me to turn
out; w ill you be so good as to turn nut and
let me pass?” “ With all my heart, sir,”
said Munsell, *• but 1 won't be damned out
of the path by any man.” The last officer
was General Washington.
The writer of the foregoing article, hav
ing heard the story at the time of the trans
action, enquired of Munsell soon after the
close ofthe war, as to the truth of it. lie
said it was true exactly. His word was en
tirely to be relied upon. —Hartford Courant.
Independence of the farmer. —Os nil the
conditions of men, and l have mingled with
every variety, I believe in truth that none
is so independent as that of an industrious,
frugal, and sober farmer; none affords
more the means of contentment tflid sub
stantial enjoyment; none, where the edu
cation has not been neglected, presents bet
ter opportunities for moral and intellectual
improvement, none calls more loudly for re
ligious gratitude ; none is suited to give a
more lively and deeper imptession of the
goodness of God. Some years since in the
most rugged parts of New Hampshire,
among its craggy cliffs and tude and bold
mountains, I was travelling on horseback,
and came suddenly upon a plain and moss
covered cottage in the very bosom of a val
ley, where the brave settler had planted
himself on a few acres of land which alone
seemed capable of cultivation. Everything
about the residence bespoke industry and
care, Being fatigued, 1 stopped to ask re
freshments for my horse. A hale young
girl of about 15, bareheaded and barefoot
ed, but perfectly modest and courteous,
with all the ruddiness of Hebe, and all the
nimbleness and vigor of Diana, went imme
diately for an arm full of hay and a mea
sure of oats for my horse ; and then kindly
spread a table with a cloth as white as the
snow drift, and a bowl of pure milk and
brown bread for his rider, I never enjoy
ed a meal more. I offered the fumily pay
for their hospitality; bat they steadily refus
ed snying that I was welcome. I was not
willing thus to tax their kindness, and there
fore took out a piece of money to give to
one of the children that stood near. “ No,”
said the parents. “he must not take it; we
have no use for money.” “ Heaven be
praised,” said I. “ that 1 have found a peo
ple without avarice. T will not corrupt
you and giving thorn a hearty thank-of
fering, wished them God’s blessing, and
took my leave. Now here were these hum
ble people with a home which, if it were
burned down 10-day, their neighbors would
rebuild for thepi to-morrow—with clothing
made from their own flocks by their owrs
hands; with bread enough, and beef, ponfc
butter, cheese, milk, poultry, eggs, &c., in
abundance ; a good school of six mouths’ in,
the year, where their children probably
learned more, because they knew the valt
ue of time, than those wbo were driven to
school every day in the week and every
week in the year ; with a plain religious
meeting on Sunday, where, without osten
tat ion or parade, they meet their neighbor*
to exchange friendly salutations, to hear
words of good moral counsel, and to w or
ship God in the most simple but not the less
acceptable form ; and, above all, here were
heat Is at peace with the world and with,
each other, full of hospitality tothe passing
stranger, uncankered by avarice, and undis
turbed by ambition. Where upon earth,
a humble condition, or in any condition
shall we look for a more beautiful example
of true independence, for a brighter picture
of philosophy of life ?— NeV’ Genesee Far
mer.
A Tvrcuman or Kuszauk Dinner. —The
food was now brought in, upon a dozen
wooden bowls or platters, and nlaced be
fore us. It consisted of boiled mutton,
soused in its own soup. Bread and vegeta
bles are tilings quite unknown in these purl*.
Kuzzauks are exclusively carniverous. The
whole party fell on like a pack of wolves ;
my own stomach, weakened by the sight of
the victim’s face, was quite turned by the
scene before me. Never did I see so much
flesh devoured in so brief a space. Yet I
have witnessed the feasts of tigers and
wolves. The father and son would not par
take until the guests bad concluded, although
I entreated them to do so. The woman did
not appear until chins had done wagging ;
hut two of the senoras entered afterwards,
to serve out curdled milk (mahss) in large
bowl*. The broth of the mutton was also
brought in and distributed ; being swigged
as if it hail been beer. The bowl* were
banded to the women, who scraped them
clean with their thumbs, then plunged those
members into their mouths, and again into
the howls, with a inpidity truly admirable.
The thumb and tongue are the only napkins
in Klianrism ; water is never thrown away
upon either howl or person. The Tartars’
are right not to Cat with their women. Im
agine a pretty girl, with a sheep’s head in
both her lily hands, tearing off the scalp,
picking out the eyes by the insertion of her
fore-fingers, cracking them between her
teeth like goosebenies, thrusting the same
pretty finger in oftei the brain, and sucking
away at the apertures ; all of which 1 saw
executed by one of the men, in a most natur
al and edifying manner.— Ca] tain Allott's
Mission to Khiva.
Arguments in favor of Temperance.-
Among ILo speakers at Father Mathew’s
temperance meeting, on Saturday, was an
Irishman, will) no slight touch ofthe brogue
the fluent vehemence of whose oratory and
the number of anecdotes be related excited
much merriment. After illustrating at great
length, both humorously and pathetically,
the evil results of intemperance, and telling
bis hearers, among other things, of a woman
who “ sonld every tooth in her head at four
pence each for the sake ofdrink, and, when
she had no teeth left, snuhl Iter own diseas
ed body;” lie called upon them to come for
ward and take the pledge. Toe movement
in the crowd not being immediately such
as he bad anticipated , he continued, “ Och,
now, me friends, do you expect me to he
finding arguments for you all day long ?
Why, ye’re as unreasonable as the cropper
in Ireland. You must know that, in the
last century, robbery and someothcr crimes
were often punished by croppin, that is,
by cuttin’ off the offender’s ears. Well, a
fellow, most likely a dluunkard, as nearly
all had characters are, was convicted of
robbery, and was cropped accordingly.—
But, though he lost his ears, he kept his
hands, ami soon set them to robbing again.
Moreover, he was caught at it, and was
again sentenced to be cropped. So when
the executioner comes to perform the pun
ishment. “ Och, ye blackguard,” says he,
“ ye’ve got no ears at all; how will I crop
ye, then 1” “By the powers,” said the fel
low, “ do ye expect me to find ears for ye
every time ye want to crop me ?” So don’t
be after expecting me to find arguments for
you everlastingly.” After a few further ap
peals, his eloquence was answered by a ve*.
ty large batch coming forward to receive
the pledge at the hands of Father MgfbeVr,
Redvction es Fare. —A meeting of the
proprietors ar.d agents of the several Rail-
Road and Stage Companies on the great
mail route “between Memphis, Tennessee,
and Charleston, South-Carolina, was held at
Te.scumbia, Alabama, ou the 19th of Sepi
tember last. The object of the meeting was
to adopt a uniform autl reckiced charge per
mile, in concert with the Tuscumbia, Court
land and Decatur, and Georgia and Charles
ton Rail-Road Companies, The meeting
resolved to adopt two tickets, one from Mem
phis, Tennessee, to Decatur, Alabama, an<s
the other from Decatur to Charleston. The
apm of sl9 is to be charged from Memphis
to Decatur, and the sum of $25 from Deca
tur to Charleston. By this arrangement it
appears that the time from Memphis to
Charleston will be six and a half days, at a
charge of $37, and to New-York, nine days,
at a charge of $62. According to the rates
now fixed by the resolutions adopted, and
the speed already established on the line,
tbe traveler will make the trip from Tus
cumbia to New-York in seven days, and the
expense will be $52 for conveyance, and
about $lO for other expenses, viz :
Tuscumbia to Decatur, rail-road. 43 ms. $ 2
Decatur to Madison, Ga., stage, 260 ms. 16
Madison to Charleston, rail-road, 241 ms. 0
Charleston to Baltimore, steam-boat and
rail-roud, 19
Baltimore to Philadelphia, rail-road, 3
Philadelphia to New-York, 9
52
Eating and sleeping, say 16
$62
The expense from Tuscumbia to New-
York, by the way of Nashville, Louisville,
Wheeling, &c. is s72.— Conetitutumalut.