Newspaper Page Text
J 0 r ; ve anew word anil anew definition:
<•/ kun spell it and d’fine it !*’ said a lad, af
ter the boy above him had tried and missed;
~ i kun do it'” and he did: “A-c-e-p-h,cef,
cEPII a louse without a head!” “Mostall
of ’em laughed,” our informant says, “ when
the boy said that V'—lbid.
“editor's DEPARTMENT
Athens, Ga., Saturday, September 16, 1843.
Newspaper Larceny.
V. r e notice in our exchanges many sharp 44 items”
on this subject, which is really fast becoming a cry
ing evil. Scarcely one of our able contemporaries is
free uOiii complaints that its articles are copied with
out ciedit. Now “ these things ought not so to be.”
We have suffered “some” ourself in this matter;
but we will “ot make a fuss about it until we get a
little older and then if our exchanges pilfer our good
tilings—by widcll, of course, we mean “our contrib
utor’ ’ —we will be down upon them with a particu
lar vengeance. Meanwhile, we will echo the com
plai its of our “big brothers,” and declare that it is
aid n a.id a r liame—it is—for one editor to steal from
another : when, by the generous custom of the times,
he can lake what he pleases, if he will only say,
• jfy s om leave.” Say, you man with your scissors
and your paste-brush'—that has just clipped that
capital *tu y f-om the Yankee Blade—that spicy edi
tor ii. I i’rot Fitzgerald’s ‘-Item”—that beautiful po
em from Neal’s Saturday Gazette —that critique
from lh- L'k/ravv World—that “ side-splitter” from
the Spirit o the Times—that plate of Gossip from
the Elli ot’s ‘1 able of the Knickerbocker—say, are
you ;ioi afraid i hat if you publish all these, and ma
ny non* in vour hebdomedal, without giving due
credit, ghosts of these aggrieved Journals will
visi. you ‘ • li e eight-watches, and point with solemn
fi.tgev to ihe’j mutilated pages, harrowing up your
guilty >ods, as l acy exclaim in unison but with se
pulchral lore —“ Thou shall not steal ?”
So extensively is this practice of re-publishing ar
ticles wkhou. acknowledgment carried on, that the
innoccn a c often involved with the guilty. A good
thing is transferred from the pages of a popular
Journal, vvae.e it appeared, perhaps, at a considera
ble coy to ihe edito:, to a contemporary, without
the p-oper credit. From the latter it is subsequent
ly ve-copied by its exchanges, who may not see the
orighud paper at all. Thus a whole chain of theft is
forged link bv (ink —upon the very first of which
hung;, eJ 1 .he guilt.
There is a.i old adage which implies the existence
of 4 honor cnoxig thieves and surely, brethren of
the newspaper press, we ought to be no less scrupu
lous in the regulation of our intercourse with each
oihei. Jven if Iho larceny be of the merest trifles,
without int rinsic merit, it is, nevertheless, according
to the decision of one of the best judges —of human
natue that ever lived, precisely as culpable as the
act of the highwayman, who demands “ your money
o • your life.” jie takes the former —and what says
Shakspea. e 1
“ Who steals my purse steals trash.”
We do not know how we can better subserve the
interests of our contemporaries, whose rights are
tons shamefully infringed, and whose ideas are thus
sacrilegiously stolon, than by giving publioity to the
following
REFRAIN.
Ye men of the paste-brush and scissors!
Come list to the song that I sing :
A matter of moment it is, sirs,
That I to your notice shall bring.
When you open the mail of a morning,
And look your “exchanges” all through,
Now listen, I pray, to my warning,
And learn what you “oughter” to do.
Don’t take up the “Blade” or the “Spirit ”
And, with features stretched out to a grin,
Excerpt all the Btories of merit—
And steal, them for that is a sin!
Fake any good thing when you read it,
And take it without any cash,
Bat please to remember the “credit,”
(■or that, you know, “settles the hash.”
©TOUM Ob olf ift [ft [ft ¥ ©A%IS¥¥ S3 ♦
The Knickerbocker and our Friends.
We have always commended the “ Knickerbock
er,” and applauded the industry and taste of its Edi
tor, —and we are sorry to have to utter now the lan
guage of censure, which we do, however, as a mat
ter of sheer justice to esteemed friends who are made
the objeot ot ungenerous allusion in this number.
The Editor makes occasion to attack the veracity of
our friend Lanmans’s “ Summer in the Wilderness,”
which, according to some sort of evidence which he
adduces, is a “ scandalous and miserable fabrica
tion.” From this, Mr. Clark proceeds to say, “ Let
us hope that Mr. Lanman’s ‘ Travels in the South,’
upon which he is now engaged, will be somewhat
more reliable than the work in question. But ‘ while
we hope we fear,’ for we heard two or three South
ern gentlemen, at the American Hotel, the other
day, ‘ laughing consumedly’ over a portion of the
book, which had transpired, in the columns of a daily
Journal, descriptive of a visit which the writer had
paid to the residence of a Southern Novelist, more
voluminous than readable, and the wonderful things
he saw there. We doubt, therefore, but the South
ern book must be taken something more than ‘ cum
grano salis.’ ”
Now, this letter of Mr. Lanman's was published
in the New York Express, and the “ Southern Nov
elist” alluded to, is our esteemed and honorable
friend, Mr. Simms, at whom the Knickerbocker
loses no opportunity, “in season or out of season,”
to make what it doubtless considers to be sarcastic
flings. Mr. Simms is the writer “ more voluminous
than readable” —a phrase, by the way, probably
stereotyped for the Knickerbocker ; and such is the
rancour of the Editor towards him, that he must
even call in question—under the very transparent
guise of impressions gathered from a conversation of
some Southern gentlemen, (we should like to know
who they were!) —the truth of Mr. Lanman’s de
scription of his visit to Woodlands, the country seat
of Mr. Simms. Now, we are very happy to be able
to come to the rescue of both our friends from the
uncalled for aspersions of the Knickerbocker. It
was our good fortune, unexpectedly, to meet Mr.
Lanman while we were en route from Charleston to
Woodlands, and knowing the generous hospitality of
its master, we insisted that L. should go with us,
refusing to take “no” for answer. We were, there
fore, a fellow-guest with the author of a “ Summer
in the Wilderness,” during the whole of his visit
to the Southern Novelist, who is so “voluminous”
as to offend the Knickerbocker; and we unhesitat
ingly pronounce the letter in the Express to con
tain a true record of what we saw and enjoyed at
Mr. Simms’ country home. The hours—the days
flew too swiftly by, and we left Woodlands with ex
treme reluctance —delighted with the generous hos
pitality —the varied and charming conversation —the
cheerful and elevated philosophy—the bold and in
dependent spirit —the courteous and urbane manners
of our host. We think that any warm hearted and
unprejudiced visitor, would have written a similar
description of the Poet’s home and the Poet’s self.
So much, then, for the insinuation of the Knicker
bocker, that the letter, and, of course, the book, of
which (as we now It- atn, for the first time,) it is to
form a part, must be received with more than a grain
of salt. We cordially recommend to the Knicker
bocker to put a few grains of generosity —let us
rather say justice —into its further notices of both
the visitor and the visited at Woodlands. We speak
more for the Editor’s sake than for Mr. Simms’,
who, we fear, will hardly thank us for the pains we
have taken in his defence —careless, as we know him
to be, of all such sinister attacks. Mr. Simms holds
a deservedly high place in the esteem and regard of
the people of the South, not only for his many valu
able contributions to our Literature, but for his no
ble example and illustration of self-development in
the midst of untoward circumstances ; for his ardent
attachment to Southern principles, and his many
shining virtues as a man. We do him the merest
justice in thus repelling the unworthy inuendoes of
the Editor of the Knickerbocker, of whom we would
like to have spoken only praise.
2Ltterar OSUotllJ.
Death of Captain Marryatt.— The London
Journals record the demise of this distinguished offi
cer and novelist. He died on the 9th August, at his
residence, in the county of Norfolk. His death was
occasioned by the bursting of various blood vessels,
which produced a long and painful sickness. His
spirits had been greatly depressed by the sad fate of
his eldest son, who perished last winter in the wreck
of H. M. ship the Avenger. Capt. M. was 56 years
of age, and during his life, won a high renown, not
only in the British Navy, but as a writer of fiction.
While he will be remembered by thousands, as the
author of those inimitable works, “ Peter Simple”
and “ Jacob Faithful,” he will live in the memory
of all the young, who read the English language, as
the author of those charming stories —“ Masterman
Ready,” “ The Settlers in Canada,” “ Scenes in
Africa,” and “The Children of the New Forest.”
Requiescat in pace t
General Gleanings.— The Chair of Chemistry
in the South Carolina College is vacant, by the re
signation of Professor Ellctt. An election for his
successor will take place on the 29th of November
Mr. B. Perly Poore’s Rise and Fall of Louis
Phillippe, is just out from tho Ticknor (Boston)
Press.
Rev. E. L. Magoon's promised work on the Ora
tors of the Revolution, has appeared from the Press
of Baker & Scribner.
The first volume of Washington Irving‘s complete
works, has been issued in handsome style, by Put
nam. More of it anon.
The total number of volumes sold at tho recent
trade sale of Cooley, Keese & Hill, in New York
City, is estimated at little short of a quarter of a
million, and the proceeds at about 500,000 dollars.
®ur CSossCp Column.
“ Leaves have their time to full,
And flowers to wither at the north-wind's breath,
And stars to set—but all,
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, oh, Death!”
These beautiful words of England's sweetest poet
ess were brought with sad force to our recollection, a
few days ago, by intelligence from afar of the sud
den death of Mary, daughter of the Rev. Samuel
Anthony, of our town. The tidings smote on many
hearts in this community with a heavy sound; but
who shall conceive the agony of the bereaved family!
The deceased left our town about a month ago —a
happy bride—to make with her husband a northern
tour. At Niagara she was taken ill, but recovered
sufficiently to commence a return journey, which,
with her, was indeed a brief one. At Rome, N. Y.,
her malady reappeared ; and, almost before ilange r
was apprehended, the fatal shaft of Death reached
her heart, and she closed then and there her pilgrim
age of life. All that returns to her family of the
once blooming maiden is her inanimate body, brought
by the bereaved husband as a sad memento of his
and their loss. The deceased was only nineteen
years of age, in the very bloom of health and beauty.
She was endeared to all who knew her by the sweet
ness of her disposition, and the graces of her person.
The idol of her parents, the cherished friend of her
young associates, it may appropriately be said of her,
as of another,
“None knew her but to love her,
None named her but to praise.”
She had just entered, as it were, upon life with a
bright prospect before her of happiness and useful
ness. But it has pleased the Master of Life to sum
mons her early to her immortality; and while we
shed the tear of sorrow over the memory of her de
parted loveliness, wo think of her as an angel of
light, in her perfected beauty, before the Throne of
the Lamb forever! .... While cleaning out an
old book-case, yesterday, we threw a handful of tho
rubbish into our Conundrum Machine, and, after a
few revolutions of the crank, the following were
found in the discharging box :
Why is a book like an organ I
Because it contains stops, and requires puffing to
make it go.
Why should a well-finished book last a long time 1
Because it is bound to do so.
Why is the following orthography, s-i-k-n-e-s, like
a violent fever I
Because it is a bad spell of sickness.
Why is a dull volume like an air-pump I
Because it exhausts the receiver.
Why is a pamphlet like a royal personage 1
Because it has a number of pages.
Punch thinks that a great deal blood-shed had
been spared, if the Irish rebellion had broken out six
months earlier; for he says “there is no doubt that
the result would have cast such intense ridicule upon
the very name of Revolution, that no State would
have had the courage to attempt one after the Hi
bernian failure.” The facetious old gentleman is il
lustrating with pen and pencil, under the expressive
title of Flunk iana, the aristocratic airs of the ser
vants in fashionable life. In his last issue, on our
table, we have a cut —and a sharp one, too!—depict
ing a corpulent John Bull pointing to a well-spread
table, and addressing three “stuck-up“ servants, j
The following is the conversation:
Master. —“ Now pray, what is it you complain of 1
Is not a roast leg of mutton, with plenty of pudding,
vegetables and beer, a substantial dinner enough for
you 1“
Flunkey. —“ Oh ! substantial enough, no doubt,
sir, hut it really is a quizzeen, (cuisine,) that-aw
me and the other gentlemen has not been accustomed
to. It‘s vel-y corse, very corse, indeed, sir!!“
The celebrated vocalist, Jenny Lind, whose sou
briquet of the * Swedish Nightingale 4 is familiar to
every person of musical taste, has recently had the
misfortune to lose the greater part of her accumula
ted earnings, by the failure of Arneman & Cos.,
Bankers in the city of Altona. Her voice, however,
ahs lost none of its sweetness, and her name none of
its magical influence upon the world; 30 she can
speedily sing, ‘not a song of sixpence, 4 but 4 to the
tune of a million.* Os Jenny Lind's voice, it would
be decidedly untrue to gay, ‘ Vox et preteria nihil!’
.... The Mayor of Liverpool is a philosopher of
the right stamp, and places a proper dependence on
the power of tho ‘statute.’ When an insurrection
was looked for by some in that goodly city, be coolly
declared it impossible, alleging that the construction
of barricades could not be attempted by any body of
insurgents, without forty-eight hours 4 previous no
tice, in accordance with the provisions of the 4 build
ing act! 4 ... . The sketch in our 4 Southern
Eclectic,’entitled 4 Baby-Jumpers, 4 is exceedingly
clever, and much more *to the life 4 than we could
have supposed the young writer could make it
Where did he get his experience in such matters 1
He tells us that he was a baby himself once, and we
think that very likely; but then that was before
Mr. Tuttle's triumphant experiment e
present our readers with two Letters from our New
York correspondent in this number, which close the
Lake George series. He will, after a brief sojourn
in the Catskill region, 4 revisit the glimpses 4 of Goth
am, and resume his metropolitan chat Our
customary 4 Bowl of Punch 4 is crowded off the side
board this week.
Qfyt American iWontfjlM s3ms.
The Knickerbocker, for September. New York :
John Allen.
An excellent variety marks the pages of this ele
gant Magazine for the current month, and we have
been particularly interested in a racy article on
Burns. Tho Twinkle Manuscripts promise to
be exceedingly attractive, and the author of thel in
necum Papers has a characteristic essay on The
Old Indians of Long Island. Forty-two pages of
the number are occupied by the indefatigable Editor
in Literary Notices and tho usual gossiping of
the Table, to an item ot which we have felt con
strained to make allusions in another column. Our
Exchanges come to us full of good things from 4 Old
Knick’—and we shall appropriate a share for our
readers in due time and place.
Holden’s Dollar Magazine. New York: Chas.
W. Holden.
Not to accord high praise to the taste and enter
prise of Mr. Holden in establishing this Magazine,
would be injustice. “Wo have received only the Sep
tember number, though we have seen previous issues,
and are satisfied that it is the cheapest monthly of
its kind in the Union; and we do not mean by this
that it is the lowest priced only, but more, that its
value is greater in proportion to its price than in
most of its contemporaries. We might expect in so
cheap a work, articles of small moment, inferior pa
per, and other accompaniments It is not so, how
ever. Holden caters nobly for his readers, and his
1 enterprise ought to be applauded and sustained.
;.Each number contains sixty closely printed pages,
and several neat engravings on wood.
The American Agriculturist. New York: C.
M. Saxton
We have repeatedly said in private, what we now
declare in public, that this is the best and cheapest
1 Agricultural J ournal that the North produces. Edit
i cd by A. B Allen, Esq., who is preeminent for his
knowledge and ability in his department —it is tilled
every month with valuable papers, illustrated by
beautiful cuts, and makes a volume of 400 pages for
One Dollar. Every intelligent farmer should sub
scribe for the American Agriculturist —even if he al
ready takes, as who should not, the Southern Culti
vator. He will not find them both too much for him
The Columbian Magazine, for September, 1848.
New York: J. S. Taylor.
We received some of the September Magazines so
early in the previous month, that we supposed wa
might have been overlooked in ihe distribution o*
the Columbian. It came, however, on the second
day of the month —a promptitude quite as strict as
we can desire ; and as if to answer our complaint at
its comparative tardiness, the editorial department
contains some judicious thoughts on the impropriety
of ante-dating monthly Journals, and issuing in Au
gust what is really designed for September. We ac
knowledge the justice of this, and really think that
it would be better for the monthlies to time their is
sues, so that the first of the month would bring them
to all parts of the country. The Columbian is an
excellent Magazine We do not design to puff it —
for it is unnecessary. The present number is a very
attractive one.
Notices to Correspondents.
Bayard. —Many thanks for your remembrance.
We shall print you in our next, probably.
Alpha. —We * reluct 4 to say no, and yet it were
wiser than to say yes. Candidly, our advice is to
you to try again, and try often.
J. M. L.—Your 4 Revolutionary Incident 4 irvery
acceptable, and demands our thanks.
R. G. R.—We will write you very soon, and try
to meet your wishes.
Married, on Thursday evening, 14th instant, by
Rev. Dr. Hoyt, Mr. John W. Burke and Miss
Caroline A. White, all of this place.
151