Southern literary gazette. (Athens, Ga.) 1848-1849, September 16, 1848, Page 150, Image 6

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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