Newspaper Page Text
150
amiable by its influence'? Spread the baby
jumper, then, over the whole world —export
them by ship loads to the far-oft'isles of the
sea, and enterprising Yankees with them to
put them up, and initiate the untaught sava
ges into their mysteries and uses, and from that
moment the reign of peace will begin —we
will have a jolly, good-humored world; the
white flag of peace, unstained and pure as
an angel’s wing, will float upon the gentle
winds; the olive branch will thrive, and blos
soms ripen into golden fruit; one universal
smile will illumine the earth, and a perpetual
spring of sweet odors and gentle sounds will
prevail.— McMakin's Courier.
Augusta , Georgia , 1848
Newspaper Analects.
A SKETCH FROM REAL LIFE.
BY M. M. NOAH.
At a musical soiree last winter at the splen
did mansion of a thriving merchant, and with
al a man of taste and liberality, we were struck
with the magnificence which met our eye in
every direction. The highly polished ma
hogany doors, the ponderous and beautiful
Egyptian marble mantle pieces, the rich Wil
ton and royal carpets, highly polished chairs
and divans, elaborately carved, and gilt cor
nices, pier glasses, suspending girandoles, sat
in curtains, all after the fashion of Henry IV.
The drawing-rooms were filled with elegant
ly dressed ladies and gentleman, and the sup
per and refreshments presented a scene of rich
ness and luxury only to be looked for from
persons of overgrown fortunes.
How long can this last? we said to our
selves, together with reflections which press
ed upon us as to the rapid manner we gain
and get rid of fortunes in this city, New York.
How like a rocket we ascend and descend !
One day last week we took a ride in a light
rockaway over one of the delightful roads on
f-iong Island, to catch a little air and appetite
for dinner. We stopped to look at an Italian
cottage, with green piazettes and porticoes in
fine taste, surrounded by white paling, and
filled with shrubery—a cheap, light home
stead, with some fields of corn and potatoes,
and a patch of wheat in the distance. While
gazing on the simplicity, cheerfulness and
comfort of the premises, we were aroused by
hearing someone calling out: “ Halloa, stran
ger,” and on looking, discovered it to be our
worthy host of Place. lie wore a tweed
jacket, and manilla hat.
“Come, alight and see my improvements,”
said he!
“I must go down to town to dinner —it will
be late.”
“No, you don’t. My dinner is just ready,
and you shall dine with me. Here Tony, take
the gentleman’s horse.”
Having enjoyed his hospitality while liuing
in splendor, I could not refuse his bread and
salt under adverse circumstances: so I alight
ed and walked into the parlor. What a
change ! A plainly furnished cottage, cane
bottomed chairs, wooden mantle pieces and
plated candlesticks, mahogany framed look
ing glass, an eight day clock in the corner,
and a map or tw r o on the wall. Then the
dinner table—how plain ! White delf plates,
black-handled knives and forks, tumblers
and wine glasses blown at the New Jersey
glassworks, and salt-cellers dear at sixpence.
The dinner was plain bnt good —the vegeta
bles fresh—the bread home-baked ; and we
were waited upon by a strapping girl with a
significant squint. The hostess of the late
princely mansion looked fresh and ruddy in a
crossed-barred muslin dress and bobbinet cap.
She was cheerful and happy. We talked of
numerous subjects, and I philosophixed with
all delicacy upnn the admirable manner in
which they bore the change in their con
dition . The hostess started, and the host roll
ing out a volume of smoke from a principe
cigar, exclaimed with surprise:
’•‘Why my dear fellow, did you suppose I
was broke—smashed —gone overthe dam, eh?
O, no, no ! This change you see is not owing
to any reverse of fortune —my business is as
prosperous as ever. I did not wait till bank
ruptcy overtook me ; but considering our
children, our future prosperity, and the obli
gations due to society and good example, we
agreed to spend SISOO per annum in the con
tented manner you see us, instead of SISOO
in the giddy mazes of fashion. I ride into
town to attend to my business, work in my
garden, have plain and substantial cheer, bake
my own bread, make my own butter, lay my
own eggs, and have good cheer for an old
friend.”
Here was not only a change, but An im
provement: a cheap augmentation of happ*.-
§© ig 12 {£ IB El L ipj 1 &TAHi ‘T ®lh&t£lT IT IS
ness, a true and sensible economy; promising
rich results, and worthy of imitation.
1 —i
THE NIGHTINGALE AND AMBITION.
The Richmond Compiler mentions the death
in that city, a few days since, of an admired
Nightingale “ from excessive singing.” It
seems that there were two suspended in sep
arate cages, one in the porch, the other in an
adjacent room. “They appeared to be,” says
the compiler, “engaged in a trial of 1 heir mu
sical powers, and were exerting all their
strength, rattling their wings, rufiling their
feathers, jumping about their cages, varying
and swelling their songs, until the whole air
seemed filled with the sweet volumes they ut
tered. This they continued for some time,
when one of them fainted away and died.”
And is it so, we mentally exclaimed, that
even this beautiful songster was the victim of
ambition ? That that principle, which Milton
hes declared to be “the last infirmity of noble
minds,” can operate upon these feathered cho
risters so that it amounts to a positive self
sacrifice? The incident calls up many reflec
tions, one is, that much of the mortality of
the world is the result of ambition. The am
bition of wealth —the ambition of display—
ambition of physical prowesS —ambition of
conquest —ambition of every sort of notoriety
—ambition of station—ambition of greatness
—ambition of moral eminence—ambition of
intellectual renown. How many thousands
of fair forms are yearly sacrificed to the am
bition of fashionable display ; it is masked
under the name of hectic fever, and consump
tion, but it is all more or less the ravage of
ambition ! How many thousands are sacrifi
ced to the ambition of wealth; they call it
industry, that they rise early and sit up late,
and eat the bread of carefulness, and forget
that their own lust is consuming them away!
How many hundred students toiling as they
say for knowledge, spend themselves like the
oil in their mickiight lamps and then go down
to graves w T hich ambiton has dug for them !
Ambition operates far more extensively than
we at first suppose, from the nightingale, that
dies, rather than yield his melodious contest,
to the Angels, who exclaimed by the mouth
of their daring leader, “better to reign in hell
than serve in heaven.” It shows itself through
all the intermediate grades and in the Protean
forms of society, and in all the peculiar pha
ses of individual existence.
It must have been an affecting sight to see
this song-loving Nightingale, singing away
its life, and paying it as the price of vocal
superiority. Like the gladiators in the Ro
man amphitheatre, they die in conquering,
and die conquered. It seems as if we could
almost hear the mate bird —warbling and won
dering why the voice of its competitor is hush
ed; why the contest is ended, and when at
last she comprehends perhaps the cause, she
sings from her cage the requiem of the dead,
and the death-song of herself, in strains mel
tingly touching and affecting.
Mournfully, sing mournfully,
And die away, my heart!
My mate, my glorious mate is gone,
And I too, will depart.
The skies have lost their splendor,
The waters changed their tone,
And wherefore in the faded world,
Should music linger on ‘?
A voice in every whisper
Os the wave—the bough—the air,
Come asking for the beautiful
And moaning, “ where, oh! where 1”
No more, no more sing mournfully,
Swell high, then break, my heart,
With love, the spirit of the word,
With him I too depart.
THE CONGRESS OF ’76.
We take from the June numberof the Knick
erbocker an interesting picture of the old Con
gress of’76.
“In the president’s chair sits Hancock,
crowned with a demeanor graceful and splen
did, like ‘ blazing Hyperion on his robed
throne.’ Prominent in the heroic band, and
oldest of their number, is he who at the same
time snatched the lightnings from the skies
and the scepter from the oppressor’s hand.
There too is Morris, the financier of the rev
olution, whose generous aid, advanced on his
own credit paved llie way for the victories
at Trenton and Princeton, and in the gloom
iest hour caused the American eagle to soar
aloft toward heaven. More retired, but not
less interested, is that old Puritan, Samuel
Adams ‘his front engraven thought and pub
lic care.’ He was among the very first to ex
cite popular rebellion against wrong, and he
is here to aid the progress and pray for its
consummation. Os few words, but abound
ing in great and beneficial deeds, he sits in
council grave and taciturn, like ‘grey-haired
Saturn quiet as a stone,’ his soul firm as gran-
ite and unbending before the storm. His more
oratorial namesake, John Adams, with watch
ful eye and ear is scanning the proceeding,
while every look and motion betrays his rea
diness to exemplify his favorite maxim, “ I
would rather be in the wrong with Plato than
in the right with Epicurus.’ Lee, whose in
imitable assiduity and elaborate grace, moves
in chivalrous majesty through the scene ;
Witherspoon, the divine, visibly written ‘ bles
sed in his looks,’ is there with the meekness
of a Minister of Jesus Christ, but with a firm
ness that never quailed in the presence of his
country’s foe. In the alternative between the
sacrifice of freedom or the loss of life, like the
Spartan mother, he would rather have seen
his son brought home a corpse upon his shield
than dishonored by its loss. And Rutledge,
ihe youngest of ’he patriots, comes forward
to illustrate in his own person the ancient
apologue of the youthful Hercules, in the pride
and strength of beauty, surrendering his en
tire soul to the worship of exalted virtue.
But it is needless any further to specify ; all,
as one man, are ready to exclaim, our moth
er is America, our battle is for freedom, puri
ty of purpose is our breast-plate, and the fa
vor of heaven is our shield.”
THE FIRST STEAM PRESS.
When Ben Franklin was urged not to start
a newspaper, as there were already two or
three printed in his country, he thought that
more papers would make more readers; but
we doubt much whether he entertained the re
motest idea of what was soon to be the state
of the newspaper press in the United States.
No sooner do people begin to travel by steam,
than they must have other things in propor
tion, and if they cannot read by the same pro
cess they will at any rate have the printing
done by steam.
The first person who introduced steam into
a printing office was Mr. Walter, who was
the principal owner of the London Times.
On the 29 th of November, 1814, he made the
experiment, but not without much and viru
lent opposition as the following account will
show.
‘The night on which the curious machine
was first brought into use in its new’ abode
was one of great anxiety and even alarm.
The suspicious pressmen had threatened des
truction to any one whose inventions might
suspend their employment— ‘ destruction to
him and his traps.’ They were directed to
wait for expected news from the continent.
It was about 6 o’clock in the morning when
Mr. Walter went into the press room and as
tonished its ocupants by telling them that
‘The Times’ was already printed by steam—
that if they attempted violence there was force
ready to suppress it; but that if they were
peaceable, their wages should be continued
to every one of them till similar employment
could be procured—a promise which was no
doubt faithfully performed—and having so
said, he distributed several copies among
them. Thus was this most hazardous enter
prise undertaken, and successfully carried
through, and printing by steam on an almost
gigantic scale given to the world.’
®lje octrk Corner.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
THE CASTANET.
An answer to the Charade in No. 10.
BY EPSILON.
When sunlight flashes on the waves
Os “ Biscay’s stormy bay,
And gihl3 the beach his current laves —
With morning’s earliest ray,
From off the strand, a swaithy band—
The fishermen of Spain—
Launch their light boats with skilful hand
And proudly ride the main !
Now shoot they forth with arrowy speed,
And leave the sparkling shore ;
The dashing waves they little heed,
For strength is at the oar ;
With laugh and song they swiftly glide—
’Till far from home they’ve passed,
Then in the deep and teeming tide,
The treacherous net they cast.
When daylight fades, their laden boats
With weary arm they urge,
Back to the shore, whence cheerful notes
Come wafted o’er the surge:
Lo ! on the beach the maidens stand.
With eyes of sparkling jet;
And sing to welcome them to land—
The merry Castanet !
A Column Crrcctch to Jttn.
IMPORTANT FROM IRELAND!
NO OTHER PAPER HAS THE NEWS.
Battle of Blarneygabbon — Twenty four thous
and English Soldiers and their General
slain !!
[Transmitted exclusively for the Express, by “
cret, cypher correspondence.”]
We hasten to lay before our readers the
following correspondence, which has Been
sent us by a friend, who received it by the
steamship Britannia. “No other paper has
the news.” The glorious intelligence may be
relied upon as excruciatingly authentic, it
having escaped the surveillance of the British
Tory Postmasters. Read, read, read, and
send in the “funds.”
Dublin, August 12, 1848.
Dear G—y: I write by the steamer which
sails yesterday the most glorious intelligence
ever communicated from Ireland. A great
and bloody battle was fought to-morrow on
the ensanguined plains of Blarneygabbon,
which resulted in the piking of 136,000 British
hirelings and their general. Smith O'Brien
and his brave generals took the field next
Friday afternoon, and did the business up
“brown.” Particulars by next steamer. This
is written with invisible ink, the more easily
to escape the clutches of the rascally post
masters. We trust you will not relax your
efforts in New York to render us immediate
assistance. Now that Bloody Blarneygabbon
has been fought and won, send on the cash
by all means. This news is at least three
days later than you will receive by the next
steamer. In great haste,
I remain, dear G—y,
Yours, in liberty,
Equality and fraternity,
TIPPERARY JOE.
1 i
LIMERICK GRAND JURORS.
If the following anecdote be characteristic
of the habits of the Limerick gentry at a for
mer period, it must be admitted that they stood
much in need Os the temperance reformation.
Standish O'Grady (afterwards Lord Guilla
more) asked O'Connell to accompany him to
the play one evening, during ihe Limerick
assizes in 1812. O'Connell Declined, observ
ing that the Limerick grand jurors were not
the pleasantest the world to meet after
dinner. O'Grady went, but very soon return
ed. “ Dan,” said he, “ you were quite right.
I had not been five minutes in the box, when
some ten or a dozen noisy gentlemen came in
into it. It was small and crowded; and as I
observed that one of the party had his head
quite close to the peg on which I had hung
my hat, I said, very politely, ‘ I hope, sir, my
hat does not incommode you: if it does, pray
allow me to remove it.’ ‘Faith,’ said he,
‘you may be sure it does not incommode me,
for if it did, d—n me, but I’d have kicked it
out of the box, and yourself after it!’ So,
lest the worthy juror should change his mind,
as to the necessity of such a measure, l quiet
ly put my hat on, and took myself off."—
Daunt's Personal Recollections of O'Connell
KISSING.
“You should never let the young men kiss
you,” said a venerable uncle to his pretty
neice. “I know it, uncle,” returned she,
pertly, “but I try to cultivate a spirit of for
giveness, seeing that when one has been, kie
sed, lhere is no undoing it.”
HEAPING COALS OF FIRE.
You remember the Yankee deacon who
took occasion at a prayer meeting to. put up
a long petition on behalf of a man with whom
he had a quarrel ? Somebody expressing sur
prise, “ Why,” observed the deacon, with a
chuckle, “do good to your enemies and you
heap coals of fire on their heads; and I guess
I gave that fellow a pretty smart singeing' ’
— Knickerbocker.
A LUDICROUS ERROR.
There is in Webster's old spelling-book a
a spelling and defining lesson of words ot
four syllables. A friend mentions a ludi
crous mistake made by a dislrict-school-boy
in the country, in the exercises of this lesson
One of the words happened to be “Acepha
lous, without a head.” It was divided as u
sual into its separate syllables, connected by
a hyphen, (which “joins words or syllables
aa sea-water!”) which probably led the boy