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imvspqjcr Analects.
WASHINGTON ALLSTON.
From a biographical sketch of Mr-. Allston
\n the Phrenological Journal, the following
is taken, which speaks volumes to the honor
of the painter and the man :
A friend of Allston tells me a hundred
touching stories about him. Here is one:
‘•While in England, he threw off a little
painting of great beauty, the subject of which,
though perfectly free to his own perception
from all moral objection, might be perverted
to evil associations. The idea occurred to
him while sitting alone the evening he had
sent it to the purchaser. No sooner did the
impression sieze him, than, with conscien
tious sensibility to the high claims of his art,
he wrote the owner of the picture, stating his
scruples, and begging its return. His desire
was reluctantly granted. He sent back the
gold with his thanks, and burned the pic
ture.” And yet the painter was poor, and
needed money in that solitude of London.—
The artist who knew these facts, had known
Allston for years. He says that when he
looked on him after this sublime act, notwith
standing his familiarity with the painter, he
was struck with a sudden veneration.
COLTON'S “LACON.”
This remarkable book was written upon
covers of letters and scraps of papers of such
description as was nearest at hand : thegreat
ter part at a house in Prince's Street, Soho.
Colton’s lodging was a penuriously-furnished
second floor, and upon a rough deal table,
with a stumpy pen, our author wrote. —
Though a beneliced clergyman, holding the
vicarage of Kew, with Petersham, in Surrey,
Colton was a well-known frequenter of the
gaming table; and suddenly disappearing from
his own usual haunts in London about the
time of the murder of Weare, in 1823, it was
strongly suspected he had been assassinated.
It was, however, afterwards ascertained that
he had absconded to avoid his creditors; and
in 1828 a successor was appointed to his liv
ing. He then went to reside in America, but
subsequently lived in Paris, a professed
gamester; and it was said that he thus gain
ed, in two years only, the sum of .£25,000. —
He blew out his brains while on a visit to a
friend at Fontainbeau, in 1828, a bankrupt in
health, spirits and fortune. — Nonconformist.
Story of a Ring. —A couple, very well
known in Paris, are at present arranging
teims of separation, to avoid the scandal of a
judicial divorce. A friend had been employed
by the husband to negotiate the matter. The
latest mission was in reference to a valuable
ring given to the husband by one of the sov
ereigns of Europe, and which he wished to
retain. For this he would make a certain
much-desired concession. The friend made
the demand. “ What!” said the indignant
wife, “do you venture to charge yourself
with such a mission to me ? Can you be
lieve that I can tear myself from a gift which
alone recalls to me the days when my hus
band loved me ? No! this ring is my souve
nir of happiness departed. ’Tisall (and here
she wept) that I now possess of a once fond
husband.” The friend insisted —the lady
supplicated—grew obstinate —grew desperate
—threatened to submit to a public divorce as
a lesser evil than parting with this cherished
ring, and at last confessed that she had sold it
six months before! —Morning Post .
CURING A CONGREGATION.
A punctual minister once had the misfor
tune to succeed a tardy man who had had the
congregation in charge for some years. He
despaired of reforming them in great matters
if he could not reform them in small. He
found them in the habit of meeting at twelve
0 dock, though the hour appointed and agreed
upon was eleven. The preacher knew his
duty and begun at the minute. The first day
after his settling, his sermon was well nigh
closed before most of his congregation arriv
ed. Some actually arrived just at the bene
diction. They were confounded. He made
uo apology. He only asked the seniors if
they would prefer any other time than eleven
o clock, and he would be sure to attend. A
few weeks passed, and the house was regu
larly full and waiting for the minute. The
preacher never failed in twenty years, except
111 a lew cases of indisposition, to commence
at the hour appointed. His congregation be
came as punctual and circumspect in other
flatters as in their attendance at church; for
11 is almost impossible to be habitually punc
tual in one class of duties and to be remiss in
all others.
MUfMM &Uif& &A & ¥ ®AS SlT‘if S*
WHERE THEY LEARN IT.
“I don't see where my children learn such
things,” is one of the most common phrases
in a mother’s vocabulary. A little incident,
which we happened to be an eye-witness to,
may perhaps help to solve the enigma. We
smiled a little at the time, but we have thought
a good deal since, and we trust not without
profit.
“Bub,” screamed a little bright-eyed girl,
somewhat under six years of age, to a young
ster, who was seated on the curbstone making
hasty pudding of the mud in the gutter, “Bub,
you good-for-nothing, dirty little scamp, you
tarnal imp of a child, come right into the
house this minute, or I’ll spank you till the
skin comes off!”
“Why, Angelina, Angelina, dear, what do
you mean ; where did you learn such talk 1”
exclaimed her mother, in a wondering tone,
as she stood on the steps curtsying to a friend.
Angelina looked up very innocently, and
answered, “Why, mother, you see we are
playing, and lie’s my little boy, and I am
scolding him just as you did me this morn
ing—that’s all.”— Ex .
-1 —i
Making Wounds Worse. —A man strikes
me with a sword and inflicts a wound. Sup
pose, instead of binding up the wound, I am
showing it to everybody; and after it has
been bound up, T am taking off the bandage
continually, and examining the depth of the
wound, and making it to fester till my limb
becomes greatly inflamed, and my general sys
tem is materially affected—is there a person in
the world who would not call me a fool? Now
such a fool is he, who, by dwelling upon lit
tle injuries, or insults, or provocations, causes
them to agitate or inflame the mind. How
much better were it to put a bandage over
the wound and never look at it again.
Sketches of (Character.
MISS MARY E. LEE.
BY MRS. JOSEPH C. NEAL.
Southern literature has, until of late, been
little known among us. There were few to
uphold it, and still fewer to bring it promi
nently forward. Mrs. Gilman was the first
female writer of any note who urged its
claims among her Northern sisters, and Mrs.
Lee Hentz, with her graceful tales, followed
in the narrow pathway. The author of
“The Partisans” was scarcely known be
yond her immediate circle—Mrs. Dinnies for
some years wrote, or rather published, very
little—and Mary E. Lee was just venturing
forth without selfish ambition, and with little
thought of occupying a permanent niche
among the write'rs of her day.
The Southern Literary Meseenger aided,
somewhat, to form these scattered stars into
a constellation that was recognized suddenly
in our literary horizon, and the establishment
of the Orion Magazine , a few years later,
gave it added brilliancy. Mr. Richards, its
editor, was an enthusiast in his project of
giving a higher tone to Southern literature,
and of fostering the talent lying dormant be
neath those sunny skies. But the public
were not yet prepared to support him, and af
ter collecting a noble list of contributors,
among whom we find W .G. Simms, Henry
Richard Wilde, Hon. R. M. Charlton, Henry
R. Jackson, and many others well known in
political and social life, the enterprize failed,
and its editor reluctantly allowed it to pass
from his hands.
To this magazine, Mary E. Lee was one
of the most constant and graceful contribu
tors. Her best poems appeared originally in
its pages, and her translations from the French,
Spanish and German, added not a little to its
interest. Mr. Richards has recently estab
lished the Southern Literary Gazette , with
the same object—fostering the talent of the
South—and again we find contributions from
the pen of Miss Lee upholding the new en
terprize.
Os a disposition naturally reserved and
thoughtful, with few domestic cares intru
ding upon her leisure, Miss Lee has been a
thorough and untiring student. Her intimate
acquaintance with the modern languages has
been acquired without aid. and her poems
have been penned with no foreign criticism.
“ Dwelling among her own people,” she has
found no need to venture upon authorship as
a profession, and intrinsic merit alone has
placed her among our most classic, and at
the same time elegant writers. From her
childhood she has resided in her native place,
Charleston, S. C., where, mingling but little
in general society, she has been most beloved
by those admitted to her friendship. A gen-
tie, tranquil life, that may well be envied by
many whom the world calls happy.
Os late, constant application to her literary
pursuits, seemed for a time to threaten the
early termination of this peaceful existence;
but we were recently made happy by hearing
that her illness had passed away. We trust
there is a long and honorable future still to
come.— Neal's Gazette.
Southern Qrclccti r.
SOUTHERN CHIVALRY.
From The Vindication , a Satire on “ Charleston, a
Poem.” Walker & Burke : Charleston.
Oh, Southern Chivalry ! name well applied !
Still grasp the title won and worn with pride !
\\ hen, o or the battle-field, the Clarion clear,
Through heaven’s dark scroll, awoke the startled
air ;
Where scowling clouds, in anger, fiercely spoke,
1 low terrible would be War’s coining stroke!
Who ! —ere its notes, with fearful clearness, rang—
Though in the lap of Luxury, lo, —sprang
Like lions from their lairs, to crush
The foe, who in their dens had dared to rush !
W ho ! in the field stood first! —prepared,
With courage high, for nil which (Linger dared !
And, iron-nerved, with dark eyes flashing fire,
Destruction hurled on those, who mocked their ire !
When, likea scowling cloud, by lightnings fired,
Tlascan Horse, with gleaming lance inspired,
With fury charged on ranks .vhich, like a rock,
True to the heart! repel’ ... the dreadful shock !
Then sending up to he- _n a prayer for aid,
Drew from each ardent side the thirsty blade,
I And fiercely springing on the flying foe,
Crushed like a worm vast columns at a blow !
Lo ! desolation spreading, in each blow,
Till heaven’s expanse, in piteous shrieks of woe,
Echoed with horror on the shrinking e:ir,
‘ Till warriors paused to shed a pitying tear!
As horse and rider, all promiscuous slain,
In death’s fierce agonies, rolled o’er the plain;
In falling crushing ; and when fallen crushed,
By friend, or foe, as on they wildly rushed !
While man, to man, with burning vengeance fired,
Grasped the proud falchion, and alike aspired,
; With horrid carnage, on the savage foe,
To wreak revenge, or perish in the blow !
When e’en as clouds in anger through the nir,
A mournful shroud, o’er fated earth, appear;
As 10, the great Almighty, with an eye
Os awful vengeance, kindling to defy,
Pours out the vials of his wrath on all,
Till hill and valley quake in wild appall:
War’s startling thunders shook the trembling
ground,
Till heaven itself re-echoed to the sound !
And spread o’er hosts its dark sulphurous cloud,
Till, filled with awe, 10, trembled e’en the proud !
As, wrapt in darkness, thunders roared,
Steel clashed with steel, fierce vollies poured,
I Steeds, torn and mangled, o’er the thundering note,
With piteous moans awoke vast caves remote ;
j While, e’er anon, the lightnings fiercely flash,
Darkness returns, and hark ! the fearful crash !
I Man, but an atom here in this chaos,
| Crushed like a worm, and none to know his loss:—
Oh, Southern Chivalry ! where wert thou then !
Where were our lion-hearted, Southern men !
Oh ! where was noble Butler 1 whose proud heart
Was bold enough to act an army's part !
Where Tresvant, Adams, Brooks and Cantey, lo !
Dickenson, Blanding, and bold Manigault!
Where Stewart and Robertson ! who still my song
Alas, might never cease in praises to prolong !
The brave Palmetto Boys! oh, where w r ere they !
That sword of vengeance! which did fiercely slay
Its thousands, to revenge the gallant breath
Os Butler, fated to a glorious death !
Oh! never let theirs be a worn out name !
Thro ’ time, oh ! let each tongue their worth pro
claim !
Through generations let it still he heard,
Through generations be a stern watchword !
llark ! now a voice, descending from on high,
In words of thunder, wakes the trembling sky :
“ Let Justice carve, with her avenging sword,
On Fame’s proud column, in a golden word ;
The ne’er-to-be-forgotten names of —10,
The heights of Monterey, and Mexico !
A Buena Vista ! and Clmpultepec !
Churubusco ! Palo Alto ! with the wreck
Os Carolinian Heroes who there died,
Bleeding, to win that glory which, in pride,
From Fame’s proud column ne’er shall be erased,
Till Time is o : er, and Fame herself hath ceased !”
GUILLEMOTS IN A STORM.
BY J. J . AUDUBON .
Stay on the deck of the Ripley by my side
this clear and cold morning. See how swift
ly scuds our gallant bark, as she cuts her
way through the foaming billow’s, now incli
ning to the right and again to the left. Far
in the east, dark banks of low clouds indicate
foul weather to the wary mariner, who watch
es the approach of a northern storm with
anxiety. Suddenly the “wind changes; but
for this he has prepared; the topsails are
snugged to the : r yards, and the rest are se
curely reefed. A thick fog obscures all
around us. The waters, suddenly checked in
their former course, furiously war against
those which now strike them in front. The
uproar increases, the bark is tossed on every
side; now a sweeping wave rushes against
the bows, the vessel quivers, while down
along her deck violently pour the waters,
rolling from side to side, seeking for a place 1
by which they may escape. At this moment,
all about you are in dismay save the Guille
mots. The sea is covered with these intrepid
navigators of the deep. Over each tumultu
ous billow they swim unconcerned on the ve
ry spray at the bow of the vessel, and plung
ing as if with pleasure, up they come next
moment at tile rudder. Others ny around in
large while thousands contend with
the breeze, moving directly against it in long
lines, toward regions unknown to all, save
themselves and some other species of sea
birds.
pi)Uosopl)j) for tljc People.
MEASURING DISTANCES BY SOUND.
A bell rung under the water returns a tone
as distinct as if rung in the air.
Stop one ear with the finger, and press the
other to the end of a long stick or piece of
dead wood, and if a watch be held at the
other end of the wood, ticking will be heard,
be the wood or stick ever so long.
Tie a poker on the middle of a strip of
flannel, two or three feet long, and press your
thumbs or fingers into your ears, whilst you
swing the poker against an iron fender, and
you will hear a sound like that of a heavy
church bell.
These experiments prove that water, wood
and flannel, are good conductors of sound,
for the sound of the bell, the watch, and the
fender, pass through the water, and along
the deal and flannel, to the ear.
It must be observed, that a body in the act
of sounding, is in a state of vibration, which
it communicates to the surrounding air—the
undulations of the sound aflect the ear, and
excite in us the sense of sound. Sound of all
kinds, it is ascertained, travels at the rate of
fifteen miles in a minute; the softest whisper
travels as fast as the most tremendous thun
der. The knowledge of this fact has been
applied to the measurement of distances.
Suppose a ship in distress fires a gun, the
light of which is seen on shore, or by another
vessel, twenty seconds before a report is
heard, it is known to beat a distance of twen
ty times 1142 feet, or little more than four
and a half miles.
Again, if we see a vivid flash of lightning,
and in two seconds hear a tremendous clap
of thunder, we know that the thunder-cloud
is not more than 760 yards from the place
where we are, and we should instantly retire
from ail exposed situation.
Muriate of Lime, as a Stimulant of
Vegetation. —Dr. Dubuc, an apothecary of
Rouen, in France, lias discovered, as the rer
suit of a great many experiments, that the
solution of one part (by weight) of dry mu
riate of lime, in sixty parts of water, making
two degrees on the French hydrometer, in an
astonishing manner promotes the growth of
plants, the soil of which is watered by this
saline solution. The ground intended to re
ceive the vegetables, is first watered with the
solution, then the seeds and plants are again
so watered when planted ; and three or four
times afterwards, this is repeated during their
growth.
1 i
Preparation of Razor Strops. —Mr.
Thompson, surgeon’s instrument maker, has
found that the best razor strops are made
thus: Glue a piece of common calf-skin
leather on a slip of wood, and, when dry, rub
it with a piece of French chalk, that called
by mineralists stealite ; then with a piece of
the finest lump black-lead that can be procu
red ; and thus proceed, using the French
chalk and black-lead alternately, one after
the other, until a sufficient coat or bed is
formed on the leather.
Warmth of tiie Snow Blanket.— At the
French Academy of Sciences, (March 14,
1843,) M. Arago read a communication on
the warmth imparted to the earth by a cover
ing of snow, and respecting which there lias
hitherto been much skepticism. M. Arago
stated that M. Boussingault had ascertained
the truth of the theory beyond the possibility
of doubt, during the past winter. He found
that a thermometer plunged in snow to the
depth of a decimitre, (about four inches,)
sometimes marked 9 degrees of heat greater
than at the surface.— Medical Times.
I Mi |
Husk Beds. —Now (the husking season)
is the time to secure the best and most dura
ble sort of under-beds. All the inner husk*
of the corn should be saved for this purpose.
True, it takes a great many to make a bed,
and when once the sack is filled, it is a bed
for life, and is the lightest and softest thing
of the kind that any one could desire. The
husks curl up as they dry anfl never mat
down afterwards. Moreover, no insects ever
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