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I IHSC BbLAW Y. _
From the Zion s llernld.
Hail a Minute !
I ‘'.James yon had better attend to your night wood,”
Hb;il Mrs. Furs) th to her S'>n, who had become deeply
HaikrcstcJ in a book lie was perusing.
I “Wail a minute, mother, I want to Finish this page,
Hi a:n right in the middle of it now.”
I Ilis molher did wait, and although she said nothing, j
Hid."lie was deeply grieved. When lie had read that i
through, he should lose the force of it, if he I
Ep id laid it aside just then. And what difference
it m ake if the wood was brought in five minutes
Mrs. Forsyth allowed him to take his own
for it, so it was almost dark before he thought of
liis book. Then he went at in a great hurry,
in splitting some kindling, he scratched his hand
Hrery badly. And when lie again entered the neat lit
sitting room where his mother was at work, he was
fining and complaining bitterly.
I ‘Oh dear! oh dear ! 1 was splitting some wood and
droit stick flew up and hurt inv hand so.— You
it's just my luck.’’
I “Come ami sit down by me, James, I want to talk
H* I: you a little. You think you are very unlucky.
B't you 2 s
I ‘Acs, [ d>>, mother, I am always getting hurt, and
B isn’t my fault either.’’
H ’ ‘das it not your fault to-night, iny son ?*’
! ‘ ny, no; how should l know the stick was go-
B : to hit me ?’’
Acs,but if it had not been so dark and lateyou would
Hk ‘tli.ue been in such a hurry and so careless. 1 spoke
B” y° u io season to Jo it all by daylight, but I let you
' rt ur own way, to see what would be the ro-
B’- I have noticed lately that when ever any tiling is
you to Jo,‘wait a minute,’ is your almost con-
Butit reply.’’
“ell, vvliat difference does a minute make, any
B’J ?”
fi aat would your fatlicr say. if I should pnt off
Breakfast till dinner firm—would lie like it?”
I I “"Ry, l suppose not.” j
And, besides, the excuse which is good for oxa
jsequally as good for the next, and for many I
H l '* - At] as a consequence of procrastination in crowd- ’
of an hour in a moment's space you hurry
I* ‘"f “' l:i ev ery thing, only half doing it. So you
,l : s complaining of ill luck. Now, this very
H- ■ is the cause. No doubt it seems hard to
P e “S off (rum a thing iu the midst of it, but recollect
• J L everything promptly and to its place, you will
more time to do it in,”
■ ‘ 1 6, 'c but tiiat is reasonable, mother,” said j
B looking earnestly and thoughtfully in her face,
■ * n ’ I will try and do better in future.”
1 Rat is right my son. Auu will find it far easier,
l a „ l ‘ e Lungs in their order, than to
’•‘ v | al! to leisure moment. And I think you will
‘'much ill luck to complain of hereafter.’’
|3 , ,* ’V''’ n, J’ ,lear young friends, I have only to ;
•> 1 iru Times Forsyth him reformed, and is a much 1
b - Go tliou and do likewise.
The Deformed.
y ; j . , , r ' s<<; t ' ,at poor man who is going by. llow
k ‘ sa ''l Richard to his father, as they
rvetia,/ *“ the front piazza, on a pleasant summer j
let li ■ ] j*’ “ ! ° loD<1 ’ said Air. Lord, *do not !
j, j,,. , j' r ‘" ur remarks. Thougii no unkinduesa
f ‘‘ - m , y g've him pain. lie is, indeed. •
and ‘ r., llle ,nor so, as it is evident Ids
,i ‘ ‘l*' s Oon.tTMttiun was nn nl.l man
limbjs>i r ’ “ as P’dufully distorted, and hi 6 lower
ppQ U ~ U “ r " n g enough to hoar the weight imposed
,„ v ) ‘*’ Was witli difficulty that he made a
’"''Ugh ,’ r,Sf a l°*ig the highway. lie passed near’
lure*. n le,n t 0 gttt a full view of his sea
i^ s awas . aul °f hearing.
6v who .* K>SMj e t * iat niay be more happy than ma*
■ uf '’ I’ r ,u A of the symmetry of thoir forms and
u eir S,ren s lh -’
‘He
bat be atinot ’ probably, have much bodily comfort,
Daderstjmd* Wlt * lin l * ie P eace that passeth
have a t;'’ U “’ r3B he appears to bo, he may
in heaven^ 1 ex ' iausl ' esa riches, and a crown of glory
q PdoJ? * s a Christian, I am sure. llow do yon
‘lt j * 6 ecarne so deformed ?’
ken 80 ." ;, T’ for me to know—probably he lias
a b°dy J° m !l!S D' s a sa d thing to Itavesuch
thing p U ’, aS n says, ‘lt is a more deformed
fowltii US 3 crooked mind, or to have a
tna a m “L 1 " 11 ’ l^an an y crookedness of the body.’ A
for j t , ? iave a distorted body, and npt be to blame
liapnp' n ut not 80 with a distroted mind. That can
‘W’h ! rou gA one's own fault.’
ifi,' 3 ! s ad mind, father V
made t o m 1 * S storted when it does not act as it was
and oro “ ien we a PP'y the words distorted
Whit , tot ' le mind, we use them figuratively.— j
a the mind made for ?’
‘lt was made to think.’
cry well. When a mind won't think, or can’t
think, it Is distorted. There are then, a great many
distorted and crooked minds in the world.’
‘Y r es, sir, there are a great many that are somewhat
crooked, for there are a great many that can’t think
very well.’
‘Lei us consider some for the illustrations. The
mind was made to love truth.’
V es, and when one loves falsehood instead of truth,
he lias a crooked mind.’
A es, and so also has he when he loves evil instead
of good.’
1 here are more distorted minds than bodies in the
world.’
V es, many more. If this distortion was visible to
the budi.y eyes, men would be more careful to avoid
getting their minds out of joint. Men may guard
carelully against crooked bodies, but care very little
about crooked minds. Hut in the sight of God, a
crooked mind is as much a greater deformity than a
-rooked body as eternity is longer than time. I once
knew a boy who contracted a foolish habit of turning
his foot, and standing on the side of it. lie was re
proved for so doing, and warned of the consequences,
lie disregarded the warning, and the consequence
was that his ankle grew permanently crooked, and he
was lame for life. People said lie was very foolish,
and he was. Hut here is a b<y who allows himself to
get angry, and act unreasonably on the slightest provo
cation. lie is taking a course that will deform his
mind. Now, suppose you were never to stand or to
walk on your legs, what would be the consequence?’
“My feel and legs would waste away ( and I should
become a cripple.’
‘And, yet, it would be produced by doing nothing.’
‘I see how the mind would be injured bv disuse.’
‘The mind was not only made to think, it was made
to love. It was not made to cherish envy, hatred,
malice, but to exercise love toward ail. If one fail to
love, lie deforms his miud, and nothing deforms it more
than the indulgence of sinful passions.’
T always knew that our minds ought to receive
more care than our bodies, but I never before saw the
r asoii of it so clearly. It is harder to correct the de
formity of mind than of body, is it not ?’
‘ 1 es it is easier to conceal it from ‘.he view of man,
and more difficult to correct it. Somehow, very seri
ous deformities of the body are removed by the skill
of the surgeon, but no human skill can restore sym
metry to the soul that has been deformed and distort
ed by sin. There is only oue Heing iu the universe
who can do it, and lie is willing to do it for all who
iu penitence and faith apply unto him.
The Fairy Wife.
AX AI’OLOOCE.
A merchant married a Fairy. lie was so
manly, so earnest, so energetic, and so loving,
that her heart was constrained towards him and
she gave up her heiitage in Fairyland to accept
the lot of woman.
They were mariied, they were happy, and the
early months glided away like the vanishing
pageantry of a dream.
before the year was over lie had returned to
his affairs; they were important an i pressing
and occupied more and more of his time. Hut
every evening found him at her side, she felt
the weariness of absence more than repaid by
the delight of his presence. She sat at his feet
and sang to him, and prattled away the rem
nant of ctire that lingered on his mind.
But his cares multiplied. ’File happiness of
many families depended on him. 11 is affairs
were vast and complicated, and they kept him
longer away from her. All the day while he
was amidst the bales of merchandise, she roam
ed along the banks of a sequestered stream,
weaving bright fancy pageantries, or devising
airy gaieties with which to charm his troubled
spirit. A bright and sunny being, she compre
hended nothing of care. Life was abounding
in her. She knew not the disease of refiec'ion;
she felt not the perplexities of life—to leap the
stream and beckon him to leap after her, as he
used in the lover days, when she would conceal
herself from him in the folds of a water lily—
to tantalize and enchant him with a thousand
coquetries, this was her idea of how they should
live; and when he gently refused to join her in
these child like gambols and told her of the se
rious work that awaited him,she raised her soft
blue eyes to him in baby wonderment, not com
prehending what he meant, but acquiescing
with a sigh because he said it.
She acquiesced, but a soft sadness foil upon
her. Life to her was love; and nothing more.
A soft sadness also fell upon him. Lite to him
was love, and something more, and he saw with
regret that she did not comprehend it. The
wall of care, raised by busy hands, was grad
ually shutting him out from her. If she visited
him during the day she found herself a hiuder
ance and retired. AN hen he came to her at
sunset he came preoccupied. She sat at his
feet, loving his anxious face, lie raised tender
ly the golden ripple of loveliness that fell in
ringlets on her neck, and kissed her soft be
seeching eyes; but there was something in his
eyes, a remote look, as it his soul was afar, busy
with other things, which made her little heart
almost burst with uncomprehended jealousy.
She would steal up to him at times when he
was absorbed in calculations, and throwing her
arms around his neck woo him from bis thought.
A smile revealing love in its very depths would
brighten his anxious face, as for a moment he
pushed aside the world, and concentrated all
his being in one happy feeling.
She could win moments from him, she could
not win bis life ; she could charm, she could not
occupy! The painful truth came slowly over
her as the deepening shadows f ill upon a sunny
day until at last it is n'ght: night with her
stars of infinite beauty but without the lustre
and warmth of day.
She drooped ; and on her couch of sickness
her keen sighted love perceived, through all his
ineffable tenderness, that some remoteness in his
eyes, which proved that, even as he sat there
grieving and apparently absorbed in her, there
still came dim remembrauces of care to vex
and occupy her soul.
‘lt were better that I were dead, she thought.
I am not good enough for him.’
Poor child ! not good enough, because ber
simple nature knew not the manifold perplexi
ties, the hindrances of incomplete life ! Not
good enough, because her tvhole life was cen
tered in one whose life was scattered.
And so she breathed herself away ; and left
her husband to all his gloom of care, made ten
fold darker by the absence of those gleams of
tenderness which before had fitfully irradiated
life. The night was starless, and he alone. —
London Leader.
— ■ f
A Lady’s Opinion. —Mrs. Swisshelra, in
speaking of the two most prominent candidates
for the Presidency, makes use of the following
language; “Personally we have always preferred
General Scott to General Pierce, we like a man
to be what he pretends- —to succeed in making
himself what he aims to be. So a military chief
j tain is better than a man who tried to be a hero
| and could'nt.”
MACON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNINO, OCTOBER 23, 1852.
Miss L. Virginia Smith.
Me copy from the Newport Daily News , the fol
lowing very beautiful description of this charming girl,
who is becoming daily more and more endeared to the
American heart. VVe cannot amend it, and to alter
or add to it, would but mar its beauty and do injustice
to the fair subject of the sketch. Premising only, we
claim her as our own ; for with the South, her every
sympathy acts—and she controls our “Southern La
dies’ Book."’ A collection of her poems is shortly to
be issued, in volume form. It will be hailed with joy
by every lover of the beautiful.
“ Several ot our lady readers who are delighted
with the writings of our friend and pet authoress, Miss
L. \ irgiuia Smith, have requested us to give some lit
tle account and description of her, so that they may
form an opinion of the personal appearance of this
young lady who, in soshorta space of time, has justly
earned a distinguished and enviable reputation. We
will comply with these requests, and give them as mi
nute a description as we can.
Site is a native of \ irginia, and was educated in
Pennsylvania 5 during the last three years or so, she
has resided in Memphis, Tennessee. She is about 20
years of age ; is rather below the medium height, and
is finely formed. She has an expansive forehead, del
icately arched and finished eye-brows, large blue eyes,
though soft and liquid, evincing keen and delicate feel
ings ; rosy cheeks, adorned with beautiful dimples, and
a mouth of exquisite moulding, ller hair is dark
brown, which she wears in curls, which are very be
coming, and gives her a girlish appearauce. She is
considered very handsome. She possesses easy and
graceful manners, and charming conversational powers.
She rarely ever speaks of her writings, even to her
most intimate friends, —others find great difficulty in
inducing her to allude to them under any circumstan
cei S —thi') let us add, is an invariable characteristic
of true genius. In society she is gay, sprightly, witty
and full of fun. Her speech is accurate, and slow
enough to be always clear and comprehensive; her
voice is low, soft and sweet, falling on the ear gently,
and awakening in the heart emotions of tenderness and
purity. She posseses great pride and self-respect, and
elevation of sentiment and dignity of character. The
best evidence of ber personal influence is found in the
fact that those who know her most intimately are her
greatest admirers, —and when they read her poetry,
see in it, beautiful as it is in itself, all the inspiration
of the amiable woman. She exhibits few, if any, of
the eccentricities of genius ; she is delicate and femi
niue, with nothing harsh or rude to diminish the beau
ty and loveliness of her ciiaracter. Those who are
most intimate with her, say that it is impossible to close
the heart against her ; sire wins her way into it with
out effort, and when once there, rules it with gentle
sway which is supreme.
“ Such is the brief sketch of the character and ap
pearance of \ irgiuia Smith. Below we give a sweet
little poem, which speaks lor itself, which she sent us a
short time since, —and which forms an appropriate
close of this notice, as it alludes to her domestio rela
tions, and shows her to be almost alone iu this wide,
wide world :
Oue or—Two ?
Are we one my sister dearest?
One or two my azure-eyeil
Sunny.hearted, gipsy fairest
Little laughter-loving Lide ?
Like the fabled “Star” and ‘‘Stella’’
To the morn and even sun,
Don't you think sweet Zingarella,
That our spirits are but one ?
Brightly blending shall we frame them
Into Spring’s ceolian tune ;
Or disporting softly name them
Laughing May and smiling June!
Like the sunshine and the shower
Through one golden April hour,
So our spirits are but one.
Joy to them is like the springing,
Os the birdling’s choral swell,
Sweetly wild and softly ringing
With the chiming matin bell.
Ai;d when o’er them sadly linger
Shadows of the lovely flown,
Sorrow’s pale and tear-dewed finger
Writes upon them, “Yeare one!’’
Long ago our gentle mother
Sought the sunny spirit-land ;
And we never had a brother, —
So we wander hand in iiand
Through life's labyrinthine mazes,
Where to guide us there are none,
YTt amid its thousand phases
Sure our spirits are but one.
Smile, my love, —the great All-seeing
Is our Father, and we bow
To the land that gave us being,
And our only Mother now.
Pillared flame and cloud before us
Through the wilderness begun,
They shall journey, watching o'er us
That our spirits may be one.
I have often thought if only
I might pass from earth with you,
That our hearts would not be lonely
If in heaven we were but two.
Yet a deeper bliss is given
Us to know,—our mission done,
As on earth, so iD Heaven
Shall our spirits be but one !
Polygamy of the Mormons,
Lieut. J. W. Gunnison, of the Topographical
Engineers, who was employed upon the survey
of Urah, and acquired, by residence among and
near the Mormons, a full knowledge of their
history, creed, character, institutions and habits
has embodied the results of his inquiries in a
small volume, recently issued from the press of
Lippincott <fc Grarabo, of Philadelphia. We
extract that passage, from his work in which the
author treats of the system of Polygamy that
prevails among the ‘saints.’
The revelation of Joseph, [Smith] on the sub
ject of Polygamy, has probably never been
printed or publicly circulated. When he de
clared to the council the revelation, if was made
known that he, like the saints of old—David,
Solomon and Jacob, and those he thought faith
ful —should be privileged to have as many
wives as they could manage to take care of, to
raise up a holy household for the service of the
Lord. Immediately rumors were spread that
the wives of many were re-married to the lea
ders and high priests and subject to them, which
they declared to be a, slander, and maintain that
the relation existing among them is a pure and
holy one, and that their doctrine is, that every
man shall have one wife, and every woman only
one husband, as is laid down in the Cook of
Covenants by revelation. Y’etthey affirm that
this allows to the man a plurality, as the phrase
is peculiarly worded : the only applying to the
female alone. Again, they teach that the use
and foundation of matrimony is to raise up a
peculiar, holy people for the kingdom of God
the Son, that at the Millennium they may be
resurrected to reign with Him, and the glory
of the man will be in proportion to the size of
his household of children, wives and servants,
but those eligible to priesthood have only a t ight
to marry at all- It is to be a pure and holy
state; and religious motives, or a sense of duty
should alone guide; and that for sensual grati
fications it is au abomination,
Infidelity and licentiousness are held up lor
abhorrence; and when the ‘plurality’ law eh till
be promulgated, they will be punished by the
decapitation of the offender, and the severest
chastity inculcated upon one sex, and rigid con
tinence on the other during the gestation and
nursing of children. Thus, the time of wean
ing will again become a feast of joy, next to the
celebration of the nuptial rite, and patriarchal
times return.
Quoting the Scripture, that ‘the man is not
without the woman, nor the woman without the
man,’ they affirm that it is the duty of every
man to marry at least once, and that a woman
cannot enter into the heaven! kingdom with
out a husband to introduce her as belonging to
himself.
And it lias been said that some women, dis
trusting the title of their spouses to enter at all,
have been desirous to take hold of the skirt of
an apostle or high-priest with superior creden
tials ; how far correct, we are not sufficiently
informed to state positively, and can only speak
of such rumors as existing, and beg pardon for
mentioning the scandal.
The addition of wives, after the first, to a
man’s family, is called a‘sealing to him.’
This constitutes a relation with all the rights
and sanctions of matrimony; and as they claim
to have the only true priesthood which alone
can bind the parties in the holy state, and make
them ‘one flesh,’ it follows that they have the
only true marriages now 7 existing upon earth.
Thus guarded in the motive, and denounced
as sin for other consideration than divine, the
practical working of the system, so far as now
extended, has every appearance of decorum.—
lire romantic notion of a single love is derided,
and met by calling attention to the case of pa
rental aflection ; w here the father’s good will is
bestowed alike on each of bis many children ;
and they pretend to see a more rational appli
cation of a generous sotfl in loving more than
one wife, than in the bigotry of a partial adhe
sion. The seer alone has the power, which he
can use by delegation, of granting the privilege
of increasing the number of wives; the rule of
primitive ages is applied in the case, and the
suitor must first have the consent of the parents,
then consult the lady and the seer.
Every unmarried woman has a right a de
mand a man in marriage, if she is neglected,
on the ground of the privilege of salvation;
and the president who receives the petition must
provide for her, and has the authority to com
mand any man he deems competent, to support
her,‘to seal her’to himself in marriage; and
the man so ordered must show just cause and
impediment, why it should not be done, if be
dislikes the union, or else be considered contu
macious, and ‘in danger of the council.’
The seer sometimes has to exercise his judg
ment in preventing incongruous ‘sealings’ from
unworthy motives, and to tell such that what
they now esteem a privilege, will turn out soon
to be a burden.
This interference with the kingdom of Cupid
calls fur most judicious measures on nis part,
for in that court, bis decisions, guided by rea
son, are apt to be demurred to by passion.—
But, as lie can join, so, too, can he annul the
contract, and dissolve the relationship of the
parties, when, after he lias counseled them, and
given them a proper probation, they still find
an incompatibility to exist. Out of this matter
grows an immense power, based upon his know
ledge of all the domestic relations in tlie colo
ny; such delicate confidence begets a reverence
and fear, and while things proceed harmonious
ly, a love to him as their adviser and friend is
engendered in their minds. And as the peace
of the society depends materially on that of
families, lie watches over this part of the pre
rogative with solicitude, and keeps the parties,
as far as practicable, up to their engagements.
In some instances several wives occupy the
same house and the same room, as their dwel
lings have, generally, only one apartment,
but it is usual to board out the extra ones, who,
must frequently, ‘pay their own way 7 by sew
ing, and other female employment. It is but
fairness to add that they hold the time near at
hand predicted by Isaiah, ‘when seven w 7 oinen
shall take hold of the skirt of one man and say,
we will eat our own bread, but let us be called
bv thy name which the assurance that plurali
ty is foretold and correctly practised by them.
It is only a little in anticipation of the time
when the the ‘battles of the Lord’ are to begin,
and then, as the w omen are far more pure than
the men, the females will greatly out number
the males, for the latter will be swept ofl by
sword and pestilence, and the other reserved to
increase the retinue of the saints; and many
women will thus be compelled to choose the
same man, in order to secure a temporal home
and temporal salvation, as also to obtain eter
nal right to a terrestrial or celestial queenship.
It is further maintained that there is great dis
parity of numbers between the sexes, and that
the predominence of the female is more than
can be accounted for from war, the dangers of
the sea, and other perils, and, therefore, nature
indicates the propriety of plurality, as ‘marriage
is honorable to all;’ but the decision of this
question can safely be entrusted to the relative
numbers of the sexes, as exhibited incur cen
sus returns.
They also assure us that this system is the
preventive and cure for the awful sin of licen
tiousness, moral and physical degradation iu the
world; and they make it both a religious and
a social custom, a point of personal honor for a
man who has a wife, daughter, or sister who
has been led astray, to kill the seducer; and
considering this as a ‘common mountain law,’
based on the Mosaic code, a jury w ill acquit the
murderer at all hazards.
That the wives find the relation often a lone
some and burdensome one, is certain; though,
usually, the surface of society wears a smiling j
couutenance, and to all who consent from a
sense of duty or enthusiasm, the yoke is easy.
From the October Knickerbocker.
THE SHANGHAI CHICKENS.
Now, ‘up-river’ friend, peruse you the forego
ing, and also the two following passages from
other epistles ; for, as Dogberry says, they ‘dis
cern you nearly.’ ‘Your correspondent has at
last got his Shanghai hen ! I wish him joy of
it. He should have seen the brutes, as I have,
in the unmitigated ungainliness of early youth;
stalking about the barn-yard on stilts, gazing
stupidly around from that bad eminence; blown
overby every blast of wind, or coming down
heels-over-headon a kernel of corn. My Shang
hais begin life with an inordinate pair of drum
sticks, and have been running to legs ever since.
They remind me of nothing but the ostrich,
which I saw long, long ago, with my little bro
ther, who in bis excitement fed the creature on
pennies, and burst into tears when, as the last
copper was gulped down, the sense of
bankruptcy broke upon him. Their crow is not
the honest Saxon crow, expressive of day-break,
love, war, and animal spirits, but a horrid gut-
tural ejaculation, between a Chinese sentence,
as described by missionaries, and a badly blown
dinner-horn. They move like a man whose legs
are asleep, in fact, their whole carriage is such
that I wonder the country louts, stumbling
along the road to church, do not recognize their
own gait in that of the wretched fowls, and feel
the ‘deep damnation of the taking off.’ My
game-cock has gone mad on the subject. Ftear
td by the Earl of Derby, who lately forsook
breeding race-horses and fighting-chickens to
assume the reins of government, this bird,
whose family is as old as the earldom, cannot
bear the sight of a great commoner like a
Shanghai. Every one of their actions, however
innocent, he considered personal. Ho climbs
their sides holding by one feather, like a mid
shipman boarding a ‘liner.’ lie cannot take
his own meals, for fear that they will get a mor
sel. lie follows them all day like a shadow,
which, at this rate, he will soon become. One
question presses upon me; Will the Shanghai
ever stop growing, or shall I awake some morn
ing to find the barnyard in their possession, se
veral farm-hands in their crops, and a deputa
tion of domestic poultry waiting at the door of
the house to pick up the family as they come out,
and breakfast on their benefactors? Let your
correspondent consider this while his fowls are
yet in the corn-crib.’ GroflVey Crayon, learned
in hen-craft, told us the other day at Sunnyside
that his opinion of the Shanghai was not at all
in favor of that bird over the better class of his
American ‘contemporaries.’
DANDYISM IN WORDS.
A cluster of clever ‘curiosities’ from the pri
vategossip of a friend in Saint Louis,ina recent
letter to tlie Editor: Speaking of‘biute crea
tions,’ reminds me of a specimen of the ‘flat
head tribe’ who honors us with his presence
and ‘pa'ronage’ about these days, lie is an
amateur-sportsman, and owns a beautiful setter
slut, his constant companion. Walking with a
lady a few days ago, she remarked to him
‘What a line dog you have, M .\1 I.’ ‘Miss
,’ said he, ‘that is not a dog : it is one of
your own sex!' —l know of a rare specimen of
the ‘‘Dandy in Words,’ who now ‘holds forth’
in the City of Louisville. He writes very blank
verse, and quotes from Tapper, and is, iu fact,
a ‘progeny.’
THE SUBLIME TO TIIE UTILITARIAN.
Ju Ige J ,of Ohio, is nuted for his keen
perception of the ludicrous, lively imagination,
and just appreciation of the beautiful, as well as
for his sound sense and judicial knowledge.—
lie related to a friend of ours in Washington
the other day, while speaking of a recent visit
to the Falls of Niagara, the following: ‘Y~ou
cannot take any position on the banks of the
river below the cataract, where it is possible to
find a seat, that some new and yet more beau
tiful view does not present itself. One feeds like
a very insignificant creature, and the idea of a
superior Power comes to his mind and heart
with awful impressiveness. I could have re
mained for half a day in one spot, musing and
meditating in this temple of God’s own making;
but I had all my poetry and reverential feeling
marred by the observations of a practical Yan
kee. ‘This is all very fine,’ said lie, ‘but there
is a right smart stream which divides tew keoun
ties in the State Varmcount, that pitches down
abeout a hundred and twenty feet, and is every
way superior, as a water-peower, to this ’ere !’
He then went into a mathematical calculation
as to the number of spindles each would drive,
and talked voluminously (if not luminously) of
hydraulics and hydrostatics in general. ‘But,
you see, what gives the advantage to the falls
in Vanneount,’ he continued, ‘is, that there is
a fust rate place to put up cotton-mills, while
here yeou can’t find any greound at all to build
on.’ The suspension bridge, however, took bis
fancy. ‘That,’ said he. ‘I consider a great work
of art; and the beauty of it is, there doesn't
appear to he any effort in putting it there, for
the hull thing cost only abeout ten theousand
dollars, and it paid for itself the fust year.’
THE NEPPINS FAMILY.
Our ‘Mrs. Neppins,on old Long Island's sea
girt shore,’ bids fair to become famous through
the exertions of her chronicler. ‘Hear him vet
farther;’ Mrs. Neppins went lo camp meetin’
here last week, and on being asked if she loved
the Lord, replied: ‘Wal, I ain't got nothing
ag’n’Hitn!’ Also, her son,‘of the name of
Conklin Neppins, ate far a wager a whole roast
goose, and then drank tip the oily gravy ; and
being asked if it would not ‘make him sick,’ re
plied that ‘the goose sot well enough onto his
sturamick, and as for the gravy, he thought that
the grease would kind o’ wyrk out of his skin!’
But it did make him sick, for when our Captain
met Mrs. Neppins, and asked after her son, she
replied : ‘VVaI, he enjoys very poor health, but
this mornin* lie complains of feeling better.’
‘What is the matter with him V asked our cap
tain. ‘Wal,’replied Mrs. Neppins, ‘lie’s kind
o’ troubled with a dreadful risin’ of his vittles!’
NICE QUESTION SETTLED.
S's. ‘ Anecdote’ is welcome : ‘I entered a long
school house once, where a ‘Debatin’ Society’
was holding forth upon the question : ‘if a man
saw his wife and mother in the water drowning,
which should he help out first?’ The question
was considered with animation upon both sides
for a while, when a ‘backwardness’ began to
manifest itself. The President de ired deba- j
ters, ‘if they had anothing to say, to continue j
on.’ After a pause, a peaked looking man in ;
the hack part of the house got up and said,
with considerable diffidence and embarrass
ment: ‘Mr. President, I think if a man saw
his mother and wife in the water drowning, he
ought to help his mother out first; because you j
see. if his wife did £et drowned, he could get j
another one, but he couldn’t get another mo
ther, not easy !’ This settled the question and j
the verdict ‘accordingly.’
GRINNELL AND DRAPER.
Among the ‘regrets’ of the past month—and j
we have been obliged to tender many—wenum- j
ber, as involving the largest loss of heart cheer- j
ing and heart giving pleasure, the apology we
were compelled, from previous engagements, to
send to those well-known and valued merchant
princes of New York, Moses H. Grinned and
Simeon Draper. These gentlemen made up,
by way of special cornplimeut to the ‘Press
Club,’ an excursion down the Bay, in their own
pleasure-yacht, under convoy of the new pilot
boat Julia. One of the ‘ Kore ,’ who was of the
party, describes the excursion as full to the brim ,
of genuine delights. The delight of embarka
tion off the Battery, at noon, the sun in its
softest, brightest, balmiest wood, and the winds j
just sufficient to fill the sails; thed'dight of the i
six hours’ sail down, and five hours’ sail up the
Bay; the delight of the sumptuous dinner,
served after the sea-air had provoked a capital
appetite; and, above all, the delight ot hearty
social and convivial intercourse between hosts !
and guests, and the admirable oneness of senti- j
ment pervading a Company, which, for all the j
world, seemed formed for each other, and all
made for this dnv. The party, we must add,
on the authority of the friend aforesaid, proved
themselves good ‘trencher-men’ a!!, the dinner
table was voted by common consent a ‘great in
stitution.’ and the champagne, with equal unani
mity, made to pay the penalty of its own ex
cellence.
Mr. R., a favorite low comedian at a suburb
an theatre to the north of the metropolis, hav
ing recently met with an accident while per
forming, was obliged to “lie up” for some time
his medical attendant fearing that lie had re
ceived some spinal injury. It seems that the
invalid, who resides near a burial ground, had
long been object of admiration to the sexton,
who was in the habit ot relieving his mind from
grave affairs by occasional visits to the theatre
to which the actor belonged, by means of or
ders given to him by the c >median. The re
membrant e of these obligations sunk deep into
the heart of the honest grave-digger, who, hear
ing that his friend had met with a severe acci
dent, at oiicp concluded that he would be a
“croaker.’ He accordingly called one morn
ing at the comedian’s house, and requested
that Mr. 11. should be informed that ‘Jim’ had
looked out a nice quiet place for him in the
churchyard, where he would be happy to bury
him, “for,’ as he added emphatically, “ I’m a
man as never forgets a favor.
Corrcofioniifiiff.
LETTERS FROM TIIE NORTH.
In the Woods, Oct. Ist, ISo2.
The following part of the translation of the nine
teenth Psalm, by Bishop Lowth,lnow quote in order
to make the succeeding comments upon it:
‘The ileavtns delare the glory of God,
The firmament sheweth the works of his hands,
Day utteretli instruction to day,
And night sheweth knowledge unto night
They have no speech nor language,
And their voice is not heard ;
A ct, their sound goeth fortlr to all the earth,
And their words to the ends of the world.’
Now, what I want yon to notice here, is, the very
peculiar reference which St. Paul lias made to it when
speaking of the preaching of the Gospel to the Gen
tiles, in his Epistle to the Romans. Tiie Psalmist,
when singing of the glory of the Heavens being an
expression of God's wisdom to the world, does not have
any reference whatever to the Gentiles, or the Church,
hut just see what a very extraordinary use the Apos
tle has made of the passage in referring to the going
forth of the Gospel to the Gentiles.
The Psalmist says that the sound of the Heavens
‘goeth forth , to all the earth’ The Apostle, in
speaking of the going forth of the Gospel to tbs Gen
tiles, quotes his very language, and says, ‘ Their sound
went unto all the earth.’ Now, it is not because the
Apostle lias quoted the language of David that I make
a note of it here, but because of the for-seting view
which he takes of the spiritual import of his words.
Ibid St. Paul not made this commentation, we never
coul-l have known the deep spiritual meaning which
lies hidden in their almost unfathomable undercurrent.
What a beautiful and sublime exegesis he could have
given to the whole of the Old Testament, had lie
chosen. Now, his meaning here is, that just as the
Heavens declare the glory of God without speaking a
word—that is, in a silent language—so does tire sound
of the Gospel, in going forth, proclaim his Divine Will
to tiie Gentiles. But look at St. Paul's criticism upon
David’s meaning. The Greek word, which gives the
Hebrew, here is, phthongos , which signifies the sound
made by the vibration of the string of a harp—just such
an one as David is supposed to have made when utter
ing forth this particular Psalm. David speaks of the
voice of God as going forth in the unutterable elo
quence of the harmony of the far-dilating music of the
multitudinous creations of the Heavens and of the
Earth. The Apostle does not go up into the Heavens,
where David went, to express his idea of the going
forth of God’s will to the Gentiles; but stops at Da
vid’s Harp, as though he could then hear the far-reach
ing vibrations of the strings, swelling up in sacredotal
modulations against the white shore of his far-seeing
and impatient soul—signify.ng, (which is the most
clairvoyant of all commentations,) that the intonations
had not yet died away into silence in passing down
from the vibrations of his strings through the long
-
lapses of the ages ; but was still trembling loud enough
on the ear h-surrounding bosom of the air to impress,
with their God-like melody, his enthusiastic soul.
The septuagin; translation is precisely that of the
Apostle, O phthongos aulon. The meaning of the
Hebrew is, ‘ Their line ’ went out; which fathoms, at
once, the otherwise unfathomable ocean of the divine
truth, as well as beauty, which his lies hidden in the un
dercurrent of the passage. The fact is the whole
meaning of the passage, as well as the sublime and
subtle exegesis of the Apostle, is an unparalleled eulo
gy on poetry —the Psalmist having had reference to
the sublime Poetry of God, as manifested in the un
fathomable Epic of the skies, and the Apostle to the
grand Poetry of the Psalm, through which David at
tempted to express his idea of it.
The Hebrew word denotes that the abysses of all
space had been sounded by the lung line ot the great
Harp of the universe, on which none but God alone
could play, whose music, though apparently 6ilent, vi
brates in living thunder-tones through all the never
ending regions of eternity—giving not only inspiration
to the soft soul of David, but being, at the same time,
the prototype, of his harp, the billows of whose modu
lations were, in like manner, enabled to reach down thro’
the long track of the Ages, breaking into life imparting
intonations over the sublime soul of the luminous Man
of God. This will reveal to us, at once, in what esti
mation poetry was held by this God-inspired man—
for it was David's Harp which was then vibiating in
his sou)—heard audibly by him after tlio lapse of so
many ages. This was truly living out the divine life—
for none but a divine man could have heard that which
had long before died into silence in the souls of all the
world.
This will give you some idea of what I mean by the
difference between a really divine man—that is, a
true Poet —undone who is not. Yet, this was the
man who had, but a little while before, been stricken
blind by the Glory of God—just as any man must be
before he can behold the Divine Mysteries of Heaven
T. 11. C.
” POL. 1 T ICS. Bgj
SI'OTT AS HE IS.
The writer of the following statement as to
character of the man who, from all appearances,
is destined to be the next President of the U
nited'States, speaks not from hearsay or casual
observation, but from personal acquaintance with
the illustrious subject of his remarks. We take
them from The Commercial Advertiser; their
evident earnestness and candor will command
the profound attention of every reader, and no
AYhicr can peruse them without new resolution
to use everv effort to swell the majority that will
hear our veteran leader into the chair once oc
cupied bv Washington :
“On national grounds, whose name stands
higher than Winfield Scott’s ? In whose, in a
time of danger, either fore’gn or domestic, could
we find such a tower of strength ? What m n n
now living 1 can exhibit such services rendered to
the States ? Os his military services it vsscarce
yl needrnl to speak, for none but the most reck
less partisan pretends to question or disparage
them. On tliis joint Winfield Scott has fame
enough to satisfy the cravings of the loftiest am
bition. He who, while a mere stripling, a rud
dy, flaxen-haired youth, with the down still on
his chin, dipped the victorious banners of his
country in the spray of Niagara and then rais
ed a drooping, despondent nation from the
depths at apprehension to confident boldness;
who, at the age of sixty, his hair now w hitened,
his brow furrowed by the cares of a nation’s
safety, his well-known stalwart form having re
placed the fragile frame of youth, bore the same
banner trom victory to victory, from the Gulf
ol Mexico to the toot of the Andes, has surely
had glory enough to satisfy any man. His fame
has gone out to the ends of the earth. Deep
has answered unto deep, and mountain echoed
unto mountain, the name of Winfield Scott.—
Ihe world’s wonders, the roaring Niagara and
the leviathan Andes, bear testimony to his prow
ess as a man of war. Asa man of peace, the
people ot the United States are called upon to
say whether he has well served them by avert
ing Ibreigu war, by allayingdomestic excitement;
w hether in all they have entrusted to him he
has not fully justified their confidence. They
are called upon to say whether there is any oili
er man to whom, in a moment of danger, they
would look with such confidence as to Winfield
Scott.
“ Ae is even now, it is true, accused of mor
bid ambition. W e are told to be ware of anoth
er Caesar. But where are the proofs? Displac
ed from the command while at the head of the
army Hushed with unparalleled success, denied
by the Government the triumph he had justlv
and gloriously won, with every petty insult that
party revenge could devise heaped upon him,
to madden his generous spirit, w hat did this
Caesar the Second ? lie submitted as the mean
est, soldier to the Court of Inquiry, instituted to
destroy his fair fame. And when the people
came eagerly to meet him with a voluntarv
ovation, lie retired, and hid himself in his hum
ble abode. New-York alone forced him from
his retreat, to gratify the overflowing hearts of
her citizens towards the now warworn soldier.
“On social grounds who stands fairer ? Is
there a whisper of reproach against Winfield
Scott ? Not one. Through every phase of life
he stands belore the people an example to her
youth, her strong man and her aged sires.- —
Magnanimous among the noblest, mark Iris con
duct to Gen. Twiggy Harney and Hitchcock,
in Mexico; men who, up to that time, had pur-*
sued him with bitter denunciations. Forget
ting and forgiving all for the sake of his country’s
good he reconciled these men to himself amt
placed each according to his merits, where hs>
knew they won Id be most serviceable to fief.— ;
A friend, almost to blindness for a friend's fault's,
one great instance of ingratitude—tlie falling
away ot one tor whom he had done all, and suf
fered much for so doing—called forth from him
no word but of strong regret for the fair name
thus tarnished. Charitable :n its truest sense,
Winfield Scott was never known to refuse his
lime or his purse to any worthy object of mis
fortune. The w riter of this well remembers his
reply to a very wealthy friend, who was com
plaimng to the general of being obliged to leave
Saratoga because the safe investment of a larger
sum ot money required his presence at home.
‘My dear S ,'said the general, half gravely,
halt humorously, ‘if you expect ivy sympathy
in your case you are mistaken. I have no sym
pathy to spare fur a man in the receipt of S4O,
000 per annum. My table at this moment is
loaded with letters trom poor old soldiers, and
and officers with large families, asking either
for relief or counsel; had Ia heart a hundred
fold greater than I have it would be all too lit
tle to sympathise with men rich as yourself.—
Good morning S , I wish you well out of
your difficulties.’
“ General Scott's veneration for ail that per
tains to sacred things is well known. Ilis hab
itual respect for the observance of religion is
shown by his attendance on public worship at
all seasons, wherever he is and in his urging the
same open regard upon the officers and men un
der him. A communicant of no denomination,
he still makes no secret of his own preference 1
tor the form of religious worship in which lie
was educated, that of the Protestant Episcopal
Church. A declared foe to all interference with
the conscience of others, and particularly to all
proscription, whether social or polical, he claims
for himself what ho concedes to others—the
right of individual choice in a matter between
his God and himself alone. The writer of this
has heard the general frequently regret the dis
sensions among Christians, and express his
great admiration ol the wise discreiion of the
moreemminent English leaders of the Protest
ant movement, saying that they had formed a
platform broad enough for him to stand upon,
from which lie could look abroad with as well
founded a hope for his brethren standing upon
other platforms as he cherished for himself.
“ I lie writer has known General Scott for
nearly thirty years; and been in frequent and
as intimate intercourse whitli him as the dif
ference of their ages warranted. During this
period he has seen him repeatedly at the fes
tive board, and at a time when no excuse would
have been thought necessary for some excess
occasions; yet he has never known in him
the least sign of over indulgence; nor has he
ever met with a person who averred that he
had seen anything of the kind. The General’s
chiet recreations are conversation, reading and
chess; of each of which he is particularly" fond.
His scrupulous regard for example w ith regard
to card-playing was shown many vears ago at
the Military Academy, where cards sre forbid
den to the cadets, when he refused to take part
there even iu a game of whist, and in his never
permitting a game in his own quarters siuce,
w hile at West Point.
‘‘ Os a social race, (the Virginian,) and haring
commenced life at a period eminently social,
when conversation was cultivated as an art bv
such men as were then assembled in and about
Richmond, the General is characteristically so
cial and fond of conversation. With a memory
peculiarly retentive and ready, joined to a habit
of constant reading, there are few men in this
country who have such a store of information
on all subjects at command as Gen. Scott-
Whatever he bears he can recall almost rrrba
tim. Whatever he sees, be has an equal mns r
tery over. Names, features, dates, quotations
all seem err present, oPepnfcttlllHiis biddinir. —
Having known intimately ad the marked men
immediately succeeding the revolution down to
the present day, perhaps no man amonrr us is
so well acquainted with the political history of
the conntry even in its most minute details.—
II is fondness for personal anecdotes, aud the
origin of words, is also a peculiar trail which
he shows by minute acquaintance w ith a clas*
NO. 2‘).