Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

400 jjfceness, gave the youth a sixpence. And ‘his may be reckoned the first money Chant rev ever received for the production of his art. FURIOSITIES OF COILING WATER. The higher we ascend, the less the pres ure of the atmosphere becomes, and conse quently being to a certain extent removed irom its surface, water boils at a much lower temperature than below. Many remarkable facts are dependant on this, for the nutritious principles in many kinds of animal and veg etable food cannot be extracted at a tempera ture lower than 212 degrees ; therefore those who live in very elevated regions, such as die plains of Mexico, are deprived of ma ny luxuries which their more fortunate, be muse less elevated, neighbors are capable of procuring, this is rather remarkable as relates *0 the monks of St. Bernard, who live at the Hospice on the Alps at an elevation of 8600 feet. They are obliged to live almost entire- ‘ !v on fried, roasted, and baked fool, as wa perties from the food which they procure. — ‘or there boils at 203 degrees, which is an in >ufiiciertt heat to extract the nutritious pro- Herice that isolated community, situated at -he boundary of the beautiful Swiss valleys m the north, and the fertile plains of Pied mont on the South, seem, as it were, cut of? from participating in many comforts, from ‘lie simple fact, that they cannot make then oiling water so hot as that of their neigh bors he^ow. — Isaiah Dcik , iOSALBM. Strange, mysterious city! What a hold it hath upon every imagination ! llow linked in. is it. with recollections of the times of youth. —with lessons from the Scriptures, de livered by the priest of our earliest days, rVom the sweet Olive mount of childhood ! Straightway as we read of that Metropolis of Faith, we go back on the posting wings of Remembrance, to the green fields and fresh waters of serener years. We hear the chimes of Sabbath bells, the voices'of the choir, and he pealing of that delicious organ, whose di apason was rapture, whose triumphant har mony kindled the soul. Associations of Bethlehem and merry Christmas mingle to-. gether —and the babe in the manger is con trasted with the green-wreathed churches and blessings of Home. A hallowed word, in deed: is Jerusalem. The great temple of Sol omon.—the gate that looked toward Damas cus. — XheVia Dolorosa, —these, with a thou sand other scenes of interest, arise to thq mind at the mere mention of that devoted :ity, from whose moundciin-girt cireumfer :nce were once rejected the brooding wings of the Almighty. How many pilgrims have gone there.—how many have died there, m the “ entering in of the ways," —in the billows of Jordan! How many crusaders, battling for the cross of their order, —frank- lins, deserting the oaken halls of their far eastern castles, —fair penitents, distrusting themselves and relying on God, —palmers, with 44 sandal-shoon and scallop-shell! HORACE GREELEY. HOW TO SUC CEED. The Editor of the Tribune is •• an odd fish,” but a very energetic one, as the following graphic sketch of the commencement of his career, by Mr. Howe, of Mississippi, a broth er craftsman, will prove : •- 1 Many years ago, when we were, like Br. A. of Shieldsboro’, one of the good-look ing young men of the country, as we were strolling along by the Park, in the city of Gotham, we met a brother typo, an ill-dress ed and most ungraceful fellow, the back of his well-worn hat pressed down to his shoul ders —the sleeves of his thread bare coat ex tended but about half-way from his elbows to his wrists: and a pair of time-honored pants but barely covered his slim shanks to within an inch or two of his ankles. Flaxen was his poll; blank and expressionless his f tee; and if a painter or statuary in search of a subject perfectly devoid of the graces, had then encountered him, the artist would have said, 4 This is the very object of my search !’ How are you, Howe V c How are you Gree ley 1 What have you got there V (He had about half a ream of papers under his arm.) The first number of anew paper-The New Yorker—(handing me one)- —which 1 have just started —struck off ten thousand copies, and a:n distributing them gratuitously, ex perimentally, expecting to get a goodly list of subscribers ihereby—in a hurry —good bye;’ and the sloven passe 1 on his way—to wealth as a publisher—to fame as all editor —to popularity as a politician—and now is the most eminent representative in Congress, 3©©Tf i© & A 531 a, a if 1 is Hi AA V ©Afl& Wg * of the first city in the Inion—of that city’ in which, sixteen years ago, doubtless, many a fashionable young la ly tittered as she passed, at the queer-looking young disciple of Frank lin.” PRINTER’S PROVERBS. Never inquire thou of the editor for the news, for behold it is his duty at the appoint ed time to give it unto thee without asking. When thou dost write for his paper, never say unto him, “what thinkest thou of my piece V- —for it may he that the truth may offend thee. Jt is not fit that thou shouldst ask him who is the author of an article, for his duty requires him to keep such things to himself. When thou dost enter into his office, have a care unto thyself that thou dost not look at what may be lying open, for that is not meet in the sight of good-breeding. Nei ther examine thou the proof-sheet, for until. 1 ready to meet thine eye, thou mayest not understand it. Prefer the best conducted paper to any oilier, and subscribe immediate iy for it and pay in advance, and it shall be well with thee and thy little ones. A NEW PROJECT. The newspapers have it that Park Benja min and several other literary gentlemen con template starting a large, independent weekly Journal in newspaper form, in N. Y. city.— The intention is presumed to be to establish a Journal which shall be bone fide indepen dent,--one that shall discuss all subjects in the light of reason. This cannot hut be. the most popular movement of the day,—for the time is fully come, when truth may encoun ter prejudice and corruption, with but little risk. .. • . | SPIRITED YOUNG LADY. A gentleman being in company with a spirited damsel of about fourteen, was some what annoyed by her playful trickery. At length he exclaimed, “Now. my dear girl. do be still l' 1 This touched the chord of; feminine vanity which is sure to vibrate.— Aesuming an air of important, and retiring a step or two, she drew herself up in a post ure of self-defence, and responded— 44 Girl, indeed! I am as much of a woman as you are /” This anecdote reminds us of one told us by I a lady friend, a few evenings since. Some years ago a young man, from just across the Connecticut, who was attending our village . academy, became sadly infected with the no tion that all our maidens were, in love with him. While in this state of mind, it fell to 1 his lot one evening to see a Miss H safe ly to her fathers domicil. On arriving at the door, the lady invited him to enter, lie did so. After a few moments’ conversation he arose to leave, and as Miss II was ( showing him to the door, she innocently’ enough remarked that they would be pleased to see him again. Here was an occasion for j the exercise of Jonathan's courage and moral i principle. Expanding himself to his tallest hight, with a graceful but determined inclina- { tion of the head, he replied, “ I should be happy, Miss, to call as a friend., hut not as a feller P\ Archbishop Tillotson. —There are some j children who are almost ashamed to own their parents, because they are poor, or in 1 a low situation in life. We will, therefore, j give an example of the contrary, as displayed by the Dean of Canterbury, afterwards Arch bishop Tillotson. His fathher, .who was a 1 very plain Yorkshireman, approached the house where his son resided, and inquired whether “John Tillotson was at home.”! The servant, indignant at what he thought his insolence, drove him from the door: but the Dean, who was within, hearing the voice ( of his father, instead of embracing the oppor tunity afforded him, of going out and bring ing in his father in a more private manner, ! came running out, exclaiming, in the presence of his astonished servants, 44 It is mv father;” and, falling down on his knees, for his blessing. i Sir Thomas More — Sir Thomas More be- ! ing Lord Chancellor of England, observes Baker in his chronicle, at the same time that his father was a judge of the King's Bench, he would always, at his going to Westminis ter, go first to the King's Bench, and ask his father's blessing before he went to sit in ’ Chancery. JCharles Lamb was no friend to the modern Guano system of infant training. Being asked by a friend to select an appropn , ate sign for an infant school about to be opened, he gave “The murder of the inno cents.'’ Gsrlrctic of tint. HOW THEODORE HOOK GOT A DIN NER. “Lounginr/ up Soho Square in the after noon with Terry the actor, the nostrils of the promenade.rs were suddenly saluted with a concord of sweet odors from a spacious area. They stopped, snuffed the grateful incense, and peeyingdown perceived through the kitch en wirvdow preparations for a handsome din ner, e vidently on the point of being served. i .‘“What a feast! 7 said Terry. 4 Jolly dogs,! 1 should like to make one of them.’ “ I’ll take any bet,’returned Hook, -that I do —call for meat ten o'clock, and you will Cnd that I shall be ablg to give a tolerable account of the worthy gentleman’s champagne i and venison.” So saying, he marched up the steps, gave an authoritative rap with the knocker, and was quickly lost to the sight of i his astonished companion. Asa matter of course he was immediately ushered by the servant as an expected guest, into file draw ing-room, where a large party had already assembled. The apartment being well-nigh full, no-notice was at first taken of his intru sion, and half a dozen people were laughing at his bon mots , before the host discovered the mistake. Affecting not to observe tire visible embarrassment of the latter, and ingeniously avoiding any opportunity for explanation, Hook rattled on till he had attracted the great cr part of the company in a circle round him, and some considerable time had elapsed ere the old gentleman was able to catch the at tention of the agreeable stranger. 44 4 1 beg your pardon, sir, 7 lie said, contri ving at last to get in a word; 4 but your name, sir—l did not quite catch it—servants are so abominably incorrect—and 1 am really a Jit . tie at a loss— ’ “‘Don’tapologise, l beg,’ graciously replied Theodore; 4 Smith—my name is Smith—and as you justly observe, servants are always making some stupid blunder or another. ‘ 1 remember a remarkable instance,’ kc. 44 4 But really, my dear sir,’ continued the host, at the story illustrative of stupidity in servants: 4 I think the mistake on the pres ent occasion does not originate in the source you allude to : I certainly did not anticipate the pleasure of Mr. Smith's company at din ner to-day.’ 44 4 No, I dare say not—you said four in your note:. 1 know, and it is now, 1 see, a quarter past five — you are a little fast by the way: but the fact is, I have been detained in the city—as I was about to explain when “ 4 Fray,’ explained the other, as soon as he could slay the volubility of his guest, 4 whom may 1 ask you, do you suppose you are addressing V • 4 4 Whom t Why Mr. Thompson, of course. 1 —old friend of my father. I have not the pleasure, indeed, of being personally known to you, but having received your kin 1 invi tation yesterday, on my arrival from Liver pool, Frith Street —lour o'clock—Family par ty —come in boots —you see I have taken you at your worn. J arn only afraid 1 have kept you waiting.’ “'No, no, not at all. But permit me to observe, my dear sir, my name is not exactly Thompson, it is Jones, and— ’ 44 4 Jones!’ repeated the soi-disaut Smith in admirably assumed consternation: 4 Jones —why surely I cannot have—yes, I must— good heaven! I see it all! My dear sir, what an unfortunate blunder—wrong house—what must you think of such an intrusion! 1 am really at a loss for words in which to apolo gize—you will permit me to retire at present, and to-morrow —* “ 4 Pray don't think of retiring,’ exclaimed the hospitable old gentleman, ‘your friend's table must have been cleared long ago. if, as you say, four was the hour named, and I am only too happy to be able to offer you a seat i at mine.’ “Hook, of course, could not hear of such a thing—could not think of trespassing upon the kindness of a perfect stranger; if too late for Thompson, there were plenty of chop houses at hand; the unfortunate-part of the business was, he had made an appointment with a gentleman to call at ten o'clock. The good-natured Jones, however, positively re fused to allow so entertaining a visitor to withdraw dinnerless. Mrs. Jones joined in solicitations, the Misses Jones smiled bewitch ingly; and, at last Mr. Smith, who soOn re covere 1 from his confusion, was prevailed upon to offer his arm to one of the ladies, and take his place at the 4 Well-furnished board.’ “•[n all probability the family of Jones never passed such an evening before. Hook naturally exerted himself to the utmost to keep the party in an unceasing roar of laugh- ter, and make good the first impression TL, mirth grew fast and furious, when, by of a coup de grace , he seated himself at ilv. piano-lorte, and struck oft’ into one of thn ‘ extemporaneous effusions which had fill!i more critical judgee than the Joneses with 2 light and astonishment. Ten o’clock struck and on Mr. Terry being announced, Ids tA umphant inend wound up the performance : with the explanatory stanza; “ ‘ ? am ™T much pleased with your f are V our cellar sas prune as your cook • ’ My friend’s Mr Terry, the player, And I'm Mr. Theodore Ilook!” ! Hook's Remains. 3, Column Cvcrtcb to Juu. BUSY BODIES. One of those fussy inquisitives, rneddle sonri e-po k e-y ou r- nose-i n t o-e v cry-body’s -busi ness little fellows, of whom we sometimes read, took a seat near us, in the Baltimore ! car, on Tuesday evening He made himself j generally entertaing for an hour, with his droll remarks and funny questions, when an old woman came in ; whereupon our little j felkrr-started to his feet, and inquired: “ Do you live hereabouts, madam 44 No, sir.’’ ‘•On a visit, I presume ?” “No. sir.” “No ? Come v now, that's queer.” “No, ‘taint, \ came down to attend a bury ing.” “Oh, oh, yes: a funeral—somebody dead, eh V’ 44 Well, commonly, we don’t hnry folks down here unless they are dead,” drily repli ed the old lady. j The fussy gentleman began to whistle the ! finale to 44 Lucia,' 7 and talked but little du ling the remainder of the journey.— Phil. City Item , Into Him.—Judge Jeffries, when on the bench, told an old fellow with a long beard that he supposed he had a conscience as long as his beard. 44 Does your lordship,” replied the old man, “measure consciences by beards? It so, yout lordship has none at all. There is an old Dutchman living in the north of Vermont, very famous for having a large orchard and making good cider. The old fellow is fond of the beverage himself, but was never known to offer any to hi neighbors. One evening a friend called upon him, and hoping to “flatter’ the old man out j of a glass, began to pri.se his cider. ’ 44 Yaas. yaae,” said the phlegmatic Dutchman, 44 1 hash coot cider—Hans, pring a mug."’ The boy fetche i the cider and handed it to his father, who drank it all at a single pull: then turning to his visitor, exclaimed, “teie ten— if you don't dink tiat ish coot cider, chust smell of te mug P’ It was at Admiral Walsingham’s ta ble that Dr. Johnson made that excellent re i ply to a pert coxcomb, who absolutely bait ed him during dinner time: 44 Pray, now*” said he to the doctor, 44 what would you give, old gentleman, to be as i young and sprightly as 1 am “Why, sir,.l think,” replied Johnson. I would almost be content to be as foolish, m s3*** Mr. Facing-Both-Ways, accordingly the Rev. Theodore Parker, is a popular poli tician in America, just now, sitting on the fence between Honesty and Dishonesty, an like the blank leaf between the Old and qev Testaments, belongingto neither dispensation. Jfcc#* A gentleman was the author oi a pe riodical paper called ‘The World.’ In an w>* j sent fit, during service one Sunday at etuire . he continued sitting up and was roused ) ; his lady with this exclamation: — _ * ‘Mr. Cambridge, what are you thinkingot • 4 0i the next World , my dear. 1 A young prating lawyer, one da> boasting to a facetious counsellor that be received five and twenty guineas for ?P £ * a ing in a certain cause, “And I,” saK F counsellor, “received double that s a! ?‘ holding my tongue in the same cause £3“ One day a loving husband t<’< ,n wife's best pitcher to draw some cu ali( j l,c was going down the f te i )S > 1 S l r u red himself in order to .save the crocks-’ J bbj hi , considerably. While ; f thoug t,tless slim very oh . me rcy ’ l*ye T pitcher?” “No,” says he, in VN , YK “but I'll be darned if f ilon t- £ lc . a <&-a-ling went the pitcher against the anjf:: n 1 ° yf’ 4,. . .