Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

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 245