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\ ■n The Greorgia Literary an ries* flfprtntent. Ii. VXBGIiriA FBEWCH. »Women'* Wo Against each of the thi •ere is a thread-bare : i of the three ‘learned professions' «** jest, which from time immemorial has been adopted by u gentle dullooos” threughont the world— i he point of theee mummied facetim being to as sociate medicine wtik manslaughter—law with lying—and aermoniting with slumber. In like manner, there are “div«rs and sundry” jests and sneers, at the expense of woman, quite as thread-bore and equally sapient, which are per petrated and poured upon us in installments something after the manner of John Pheenix’ Oregon rain—that is to eay, about “thirty-six hours each day, and forty-seven days in the months»o that if we don’t belie?* them it is eertainJy not for want of haring “line upon lint, and precept upon precept.” The world seems to be over-run with critics upon that moat mysterious institution, Woman—and we cannot deny that we lind it quite &mu?ing at times to see grave gentlemen perched on the chill summit of abstract principles, sending forth upon us the indignant blast of truisms which whistles shrilly over the heads of the sinners it was designed to prostrate: and we very much enjoy the grim and ghostly satisfac- which they drive down upon our <le- ’he** nxtojn*iic .storms of critical sleet—it seem- u> do them' *o rood*—»nd then it does ns no harm, not a particle. Wo man is a strange creature, and in thrt strange ness which is a speekilitc of her nature, it is not to be wondered at if she should take a fancy to laugh at the mechanical moralists who neither expose her faults nor reform them, but simply loss words at her—for a “consideration.” Considering that we have long since come to look upon this epidemic, critical and advisory, in the same light in which gentlemen regarded fiie discussion of the late “Speakership”—that i<, as an intolerable and unmitigated bore—we y be pardoned % the regret that cur accom plished and special correspondent of the “ Cru- %ader” “L. L. V f ” so well and so favorably known to our readers, should not have escaped the contagion. Usually we avoid all such ar ticles, upon the same principle that the good housekeeper eschews skim-milk and 9aw-dust pudding, but in this instance the initials “ L. L. V.” and it* place In the “ Crusader” prevailed —and we read. We may mention at setting out, for the consolation of our lady readers, i hat our distinguished correspondent is evidently not ** in love” with any of the creations of our lady novelists, all of which we consider exceedingly commendable in him, as the “ hands, hearts, and fortunes” of such would in all probability be quite as difficult of attainment as are the houris in the Prophet’s Paradise. He dis tinctly states that If he “never meets witl. a woman better than the best heroine he has ever found in the productions of female novel-wri ters, he will never marry.” We advise the ladies to consider this sentence profoundly, be- fore giving way to despair, as our correspon dent, a short time after this talks about “ that charming combination of sense, sensibility, mod esty, purity and refinement which he thinks lie often find* in nature”—and doubtless should he ever fall in love with one of these paragons, lie will consider her much superior to the best and finest heroine of romance that the world has ever heard of ; and we wouldn’t give much for either his heart or his understanding if he didn’t. To be pure, we may have entertained the idea that Ja*« Eyre, or Dinah Morris, or Grace Leigh, or Theodore Johnstone and many others of the creations of female novelists, were quite equal to, and would make good enough wives fur any ordinary man—indeed for men not presume p corres- of that very self-knowledge, prefer a woman to an angel. However, we cannot be certain upon this point, and are happy to know that a com prehension of all such delicate mysteries is not expected” of ns. Again—our accomplished correspondent after tying that “every one” who has hie or her favorite heroines of romance, “ will bear him out in his assertion that those created by men are far superior to those created by women”— inquires pertinently, “who is this?” remark ing that he might “refer it to the superior knowledge which women have of their own sex”—he, however, proposes to “explain it in a way more flattering to the sex in ger eral though less flattering to female authors,” by saying that “ the women who write novels, are not the beat of their sex.” Now, after having been so distinctly informed that we are “not expected” to “understand men,” we are as yet undecided whether it will be strictly orthodox in us to pretend to “understand” 'women sufficiently to express an opinion in reference to the sound ness of the above-mentioned sentiment. We could earnestly wish that some one “having authority” wofild assure us as to wliat is ex pected of us in such a case—whether we shall gently subside, and devoutly thank our stars that we, individually, have never made the most remote pretensions towards becoming a novelist, and rejoice in the personal friendship of but one woman who has—or timidly and with all due deference, intimate that Jane Por ter and her sister, Frederick Bremer and Maria Edgeworth, have had some reputation as “good women”—that Charlotte Bronte, and her sis ters, Miss Muloch, and Mrs. Barret Browning, (whose late poetical work entitle* her to a place among female novelists,) amf Mary Hewitt, ass spoken of as being well enough in their way— that even Marion Harland, Susan Warner, Mrs. Stephens, Mrs. Ford, Mrs. Lee Hentz, and Mrs. Ketchum, have been mentioned often as “among the noblest of women” whether among the best of the sex,” (according to the judgment of our correspondent), see cannot, of course, pretend to say. He goes on to add; “the causes that have made them scribblers, have sadly lessened their amiabiliiy. Woman’s first effort is to love; her highest aspiration to be loved. It is only when she has done the first hopelessly, or been disappointed in her hopes of the second, that she grows ambitious, and desires to make herself a name In the world's history. She consequently comes to her work with a soured temper—with a chronic ill-nature which she has to vent upon somebody. Her continual desire for the admiration and love of men, has caused her to consider each one of her own sex a rival,” Ac. (!) As we have al ready intimated, our distinguished correspon dent stands out in the world’s broad sunshine; with an eye like the lagle’s he pierces the upper deep” and no faint cloud upon the sun’s disc escapes his ken, while, with an equal power, his glance penetrates the lower deeps of human nature, and every shell, and rock, and pebble at the bottom lies revealed. And as for us, we live in the shadow—the shadow of a se cluded home—and for this reason, perhaps, we cannot see, like him, the dark spots upon the bright disc of woman's mind. And in under this home shadow, sometimes, we form our little opinions from little premises which we knew to be true; and oft-times toe it will happen that our little ways of thinking will differ ma terially from the great and profound opinions of those who “ understand,” and are “ ex pected” to know, everything. True it is that women write—and we incline to the belief that they endeavor to picture life as they see it— but we fail to discover that the majority of them have chosen authorship as a vent to “ chronic ill-nature,” or to “revenge imaginary wrongs.” We think there may be other motives at work, quite as potent as “ill-nature” and “revenge,” and though our personal acquaintance with lady-novelists is but limited, we may be al lowed to state that the only one we do know personally, writes from a strong impulse to ex press the thousand bekutifiil feelings of hex soul, and for the motherly love and devotion she bears to her fatherless children. We have otm first of mav. fli t. VIRGINIA FRENCH. CHAPTER II. “If you’ve got a white waistcoat and a fresh pair of primrose Alexander’s anywhere about your clothes, you’d as well array yourself, and we’ll go this evening and call on those ‘new ladies on the hill,* as Morgan calls them; what d’ye say, Cumberland ?” said Tom Anderson to me, as we lonnged in his room, on the next evening after our arrival at B . “All right; I’m agreeable,” I replied, sink ing down into a comfortable sofa, and throwing my feet up over the end, a fa Americanos. “Do you mean to intimate that your heels, now about three feet higher , than your head, are ‘all right,’ or do you mean to say you’ll go ?” inquired Tom, as he walked up to the mirror, and gave his collar an ‘extra touch.’ I may as well confess, Cumberland, that I’m getting anxious to sec this paragon of loveli ness that the fellows are all running distracted about. As to your being ‘agreeable,’ I may as well insist now, that"you won’t throw yourself entirely away into amiability this evening when—” “Which lady do they run mad over?” I asked, interrupting him. “I thought there were two of them.” “Feth, an’ so there is, sure,” he answered; “but it’s the heiress who has brought on the symptoms of incipient insanity. It takes me tallic charms to give boys ‘fits’ now-a-days, you know. And then the other cousin is poor —has embraced poverty as a profession, so to speak; in short, she is that much-abused and long-suffering institution called a school-ma ’am.’? •As you arc ‘going in to win’ the heiress, Anderson, may I ask her age ?’’ ‘Very pretty age, Horace—about twenty- four—so Charley Constant says.” heard it said of a lady, true,) that when questi ^eveme! iskonV-l ation and analysis, are “not expected” If them; and therefore, that all such pretensions' are quite preposterous. We are Airther informed that “Women are not per mitted to go out upon the streets, or to the clubs, or to the court-room, in order to sketch men from life. All that she knows of them is gained by a partial, one-sided view. We ac cordingly find that th. ir heroes are not men of the world, but gentlemen of the drawing-room,” Ac. Of course—Adam Bede, Max Urquhart, Lars Anders, .ire., are striking instances of these “gentlemen of the drawing-room.” And then, the “streets,” “clubs,” and “court-room,” where the Argus eye of self-interest is ever on the alert, or a knowledge that the world’s “all- seeing eye” is upon them, keeps them guarded and restrained, must, of necessity, be better places for the study of men, than the home where all outside restraints are thrown aside and man appears as—himself. Where do men tell us to study women ? Is it on the “streets,” in the ball-room, at the opera? or is it by their own firesides? And so if we desired to “.sketch men from the life” we would ask no better or surer models than the husband, father, brother, fon, friend, master, and play-fellow, and these woman can study in her own acknowledged province—home. If a man be possessed of the wings of an arch-angel, your surest chance of catching a glimpse of them will be in the dres sing-gown dishabille of his own fireside, and if, unfortunately, he have a cloven foot, you will be apt to notice it sometime when he is in his home slippers. But, our distinguished correspondent goes on to remark that «* There is a great contrast be- tween woman as she appears in books written by writers of lier own sex, and those written by men. In the former she appears quite as fsr removed from perfection as those who de light in the doctrines of human depravity could wish. If she is good, she is weak and foolish; if she is sensible, she is anything but good.” This statement of “balancing of accounts,” rather conflicts with another that is made some what later—that is; “Perfect, ojr very bad, are the only two classes into which a woman di vides her sex, and those of close observation usually place the majority in the latter class.” These two expressions which, in principle con tradict each other, are, to our mind and expe rience, equally untrue. We have no objections whatever that our correspondent should prefer the heroines of man’s creation; on tho contrary, it is only natural perhaps that he should, but in declaring that preference it is not necessary that he mis-judge and misrepresent woman and her creations. Helen Mar, and Beulah Benton —(we take the two instances quoted by “L. L. V.”) neither of them belong to either of the “only two classes” into which he says woman divides her sex—neither of them being “per feet,” and neither of them “very bad,” by any means. We are rather amused, too, at another little inconsistency—when our author stands up so stoutly in favor of women “adorned with every perfection of loveliness and majesty,” and then says, “If one has blemishes—and they all have,” (the italics are ours,) admitting, un consciously perhaps, that the “perfection of loveliness” would not be exactly true to that “nature,” which he in another paragraph In «i*is npon. And as to decrying the creations of any one, either man or woman, because they are not “lovable,” we cannot regard such as legitimate criticism, uuless we are quite certain that ->e author intended to make them “lovea hie,” and failed in his design. All human na ture rs not “loveable,” and the largest liberty in allowed an author in his choice of a subject —he may aim at being natural, and ‘perfection’ is not natural. “With all our imperfections on our bead,” we confess that the “perfection of loveliness and majesty” would be quite a terror to ns, and something of a bore withal; and we can not but think that a man who «‘ under stands’' himself, (and we suppose that is “ex pected” of them all,) would, in consideration know it to be as to why she pen, weic it s so proud of [my very heart Iy certainly had been, “disap- 1 flumld never 'not to gratify my husband. me—he loves me—and it «I good to please him.” This neither loved “hopelessly, pointed”—her life and soul Were a3 clear and hopeful and beautiful as is this lovely May-day morning. Yes, we know there are those who write because of the precious love they receive from, and give, to noble men—and something better for the pure, selfish love they give and receive from the fresh hearts of little chil dren—and many for something even nobler still—the love of doing good, which is love to God! Glad tears spring up to our eyes to knotc that this is so—that there are among our wo men authors, those who nerve themselves to the crushing back of all selfish sorrows, devoting themselves to the good of those they love—that there are those who pause amid the sunshine of their own happiness to dispense its blessings to others who work for love, and who know that for them there is no “rival” outside of Heaven! We see, and are very willing to concede, that woman does much from her “desire for the love of men;” yet, we have yet to meet with that one who has so far forgotten all womanly at tributes, as to “consider each one of her own sex a rival.” Women do do a great deal for “the love of men.” For the loyal love she bore a craven king, the brave Maid of Orleans suffered at the stake—for filial and fraternal love Charlotte Bronte sacrificed her life in slower and net less terrible martyrdom—and for the love she bore her fellow-men has Flor ence Nightingale braved death a thousand times These are history’s examples; but every day around ns there are those who for the love of men suffer and die—or suffer, and what is sometimes bitterer still, lire—and worse, there are deluded creatures who sacrifice for meD, honor, and every shadow of hope here, and hereafter, and while on earth sink into a hell, of the horrors of which we cannot even dream. But, does all this give man the right to sneer at woman's devotion to himself? We cannot but regret to know that there are those who act and speak as though they thought it did. Says our correspondent: “One woman rarely pardons another's faults.” This idea of antag onism among women is an Antiquated sneer, handed down from father to son, from ihe ‘dark ages.” But as somebody justly says, sneer is the sting of the worm that betrays the weakDees of its author.” And in confirmation of its weakness and its falsity, we have only to turn to the practical, everyday -world around We have only to flu*)y women aright to find out the all-forgiving spirit which they bear. Woman’s standard of right is higher than man’s—few men will be found to deny this—and therefore at times she may seem vere when her whole heart is over-flowing with infinite pity and an infinite love.” A noble woman thus writes upon this point; “ Then if this (female antagonism) be true, 1 am not a woman; for if there be a ‘thing of beauty’ that I love to look upon, it is a woman; ami when to the outward adorning is added an inward glory, then does my spirit render her a purer homage than man in his more selfish love can give. There is a free-masonry, a secret sym pathy between women, that makes itself felt without the aid of introduction. You may call it instinct if you will. All the women I have ever admired, or called friends, have spoken to my heart through this invisible sympathy, be fore I have really known them; and my after judgment has always sanctioned the first im prsssions of my heart.” This lady, whose re • “ h, *- ■ marks we echo from our heart of hearts, is woman of “close observation;” and yet, not one who “usually places the majority” of her own sex in the “very bad” class—our accomplished correspondent’s dictum to the contrary, not withstanding. We cannot suppose an apology necessary for our small review of a small—we mean short article. Our distinguished correspondent has expressed his views upon a given subject—as he had a perfect right to do—and we have ex pressed ours, with all that Joe deference aqd respect which an individual who is “not ex pected” to know a great deal, ought to observe towards one is “expected” to understand all things, and who never disappointed those ex pectation ' “Twenty-four—will that be a suitable ago for you, Tom ? you can go a dozen better, at least. “Who told you to rake that up, now?” cried my friend, laughing. “Besides, what does ten or a dozen years signify ? I don’t look like Constant, I dare say—a mere boy of twenty- one or thereabouts: but do I look old, hey I old—say?” ‘Not at all, Tom; don’t eat a fellow up raw, and without salt or seasoning. But Charley Constant—he’s a suitor of the heiress too, I take it.” “Then if you do, you’ll mis-*tdke 5 it just about a mile, a mile and a half, or two miles, on an average. Why bless your life, no; Char ley is ‘dead in love’ with—such a deuced good joke, Cumberland—with that precious little hit of a scliool-iua’am!” “Ah ! and what has he got to give her ?” I inquired. “Ilis confounded handsome self, and ‘nary red,’ ” replied Tom, as he turned himself round and round in an insane attempt to get a full and satisfactory view of “how his waist looked” in an elegant now specimen of fa-hionable tailor ing, “Quite an endowment, certainly,” I said, taking up my hat and gloves; “but if you’ll soon be through with that mirror, Tom—have done with your waist—let your hair be—quit fidgetting over your choker, and we’ll he off— it’s time now “Envying me my good looks, and other six chances for the favor of an heiress being just six years your junior,” laughed Tom. “But here I am—and here come 3forgan and Con stant—gentlemen, your most, obsequious,” he continued, as we met them on the landing, and all descended the stairs together. Ten min utes’ walk brought us in front of the “house on the hill”—the residence recently purchased by therrphan heiress, and where she now lived witl tier cousin, the school-mistress, and that cousin’s mother, a widow. I thought, as we approached, that it was not much of a “hill,” after all—only a pretty eminence, at the sum mit of which stood a handsome dwelling, of that substantial air which conveys an idea of refinement, plenty, and home comfort, hut em bellished by none of those mongrel contrivances which are as incongrous in a country village as a stackyard would be in Char|pes or Canal s rect: itian hlind^^^n^raoTt nation,) and not even a Gre<?i9lfp~orfico. The house seemed tolinve lost its identityasa housealtogether, and to have become merely a part and parcel of the surrounding landscape. Its high, quaint gables were draped with clambering vines, and their mingled wreatliings latticed the wide gallery and outer casements with a heavy and verdant screen. Beyond the gallery the hall door stood open, and through the open windows which de scended to the floor, tlic freshening breeze of evening waved to and fro long curtains of rose- colored gossamer and snowy lace. The deep, sloping lawn had recently been laid out paths and flower-borders, and planted with choice shrubbery and rare roses. This, Mor gan observed, was all the taste of the little scliool-mistress, and, he added, “you may see her out here almost any evening, after she re turns from school—and Mr. Constant also, sometimes.” A smile and a faint glow flushed the fair, boyish face of Constant, as he replied Belle is very good to allow me to assist her about her flowers sometimes. I sent her last week a rare collection from the city, with which she was much pleased Humph!” thought I; “you seem to be get ting along pretty fast, young man ?” but 1 sat’d nothing. As we came up the long winding walk from the gate to the house, we could not hut pause a moment to contemplate the exquis ite view. Just to the left of the mansion clump of magnificent magnolias waved and murmured to the breeze as it passed down the valley, and in their shadows lay a thousand little nooks and borders filled with spring blos soms, which sent forth their fragrance on the air. Farther off, groups of sober cattle were scattered about in the meadows, afiock of whit sheep dotted the ridgy upland beyond, while below it here and there a spiral wreath of pale blue smoke betrayed where some quiet, far house lay nestled amid the clustering foliage. To the right, where lay the most thickly settled portion of the village, you could discern the gable end of Squire Snob’s new Gothic villa, the gray roof of the old meeting-house, half the front of a dry-goods store, the graceful belfry of the new “Academy,” (where our “little school-mistress” taught,) and the gilded vane of the church spire sparkling above grove of elms, which surrounded the building A little waterfall, not seen until we stood upon the steps of the gallery, sent up its perpetual hymn, and just as we entered, a mocking-bird from a rose-thicket near by, trilled forth his evening caret. The softness and beauty of the scene certainly must have disposed me to sen ti mental ism, for I actually felt that, it might be no very difficult task to love the presiding divinity of so lovely a spot as this. We did not ring, for as we entered the gallery, a “smart young servant boy came to usher us in, and Miss Ellen Landon, who seemed to be crossing the hall at that moment, came forward, with an easy, self-possessed manner to meet us. The round of introductions over to herself, an mother, who occupied a short sofa in the par lor, I accepted a seat by the lady mother, and she engaged me in conversation, while Tom and Morgan devoted themselves to Miss Lan don and Constant, who had taken a seat near them, turned to look over a portfolio of prints which lay upon the tegore by his side. Every thing about the room bespoke the refined and cultivated tastes of the possessors, and the ladies themselves were elegant, and exceedingly agreeable. There was a striking resemblance between mother nnd daughter—tho same soft eyes, and low, pure brow, aud flno teeth, but the daughter was the taller of the two, and her eyes had alight in them, which, in the mother, was tender and subdued. “Cousin Belle has not yet returned from school, Mr. Constant,” said Mrs. Landon, turning to Charley, and with a quiet emphasis on the “cousin”—T thought “It is time she was at home, hut the school girls are all so busy preparing for their cele spends an honr or two with them, out of school hours—she is so fond of her pupils,” remarked Mis8*Helen, in a soft, tender tone. But Alias Porter has just arrived to-day, and Belie will not be obliged to attend so closely future,” said the mother. “All! there she comes—dear child;” and she looked down the lawn, while a smile lit up her now really hand some face. The sofa on which we sat- stood directly in front of the open window, and l looked out, of course. A small, light figure passed through the gate I saw her distinctly —I can see her now. She looked like a boy— but a very lovely boy, too—with those short dark curls—the clear, fresh complexion—that dark-blue dress and zouave jacket, with a white turn-down collar, and tho dark straw hat, which, its ribbons of “blue,” she was . swinging in her hand. You need not be surprised—I noted every movement, and the details cf her very mple attire, as she came up the lawn, aud L have never forgotten them. About midway of the yard she paused, just where, at a curve of the winding walk, she stood in full view, and spoke earnestly, it seeir.ed,)with a tall mulatto boy, who was working about some plants. The way he managed seemed not ot suit her exactly; for in a moment, with a slight jesture of impa tience, she tossed down her hat and gloves, (which were in, instead of on her hands,) and seizing the little spade from the servant, set it, placed the toe of her tiny foot upon the edge, and down it sank into the soft rapid. This she continued for a few moments—we watching her unperceived, until at length Constant could stand it no longer. ‘Excuse me—but I must go and help Miss Belle,” he said, smiling, and in a moment he was bjr her side. With a lightened color, pro- h&>ly the cxerrise, but without thf slight est embarrassment of manner, she held out her hand to him as he approached, still leaning on the spade with the other. Gently, after a little playful contest, he took it from her hand, and they worked there together about the plant for minute or two—she directing, and he dig- ng—now and then her clear, musical laugh ringing out upon the air, while the servant boy stood b$ “showing his ivory.*’ and evidently looking on the freaks of his “young Mis’ ” with supreme satisfaction. Why did a sharp pang thrill across my heart as I regarded them close- what was the feeling? why should it enter my head to envy that handsome fellow his smooth brow, and clear, sparkling eye—his freshness and his youth :’ Soon she crossed the walk, broke a beautiful rose from a rich cluster that hung there, and handed it to Con stant, seemingly in reward for his services— surely the gift afraid have no other meaning. He placed it in his coat, and after giving a few directions to the servant, they approached tho house—he carrying her hat and gloves, and she balancing the little spade over her white hands. Suddenly, at some remark from her companion, she dropped the spade—“two or three gentlemen, did you say ?” I heard her ask, for they were now quite near the gallery; then she tossed back the hair from her face, drew herself up with mock dignity, glanced archly up into the face of her companion as if to say, “am I all right now?” and again hurst forth that clear, joyon.-, musical laugh—tho fresh, free language of the very spirit of joy. Miss Belle, allow me to present my friends, Mr. Cumberland and Mr. Anderson—gentle men, Miss Belle Chiles,” said Constant, as they entered, “doing” the introductions in an easy, and off-hand manner that 1 wouldn’t lihve believed him capable of. And she—she actu ally came up and shoo! hands with us both, expressed her pleasure at seeing us, and then she laughed in her pretty way, and took a seat beside my friend Tom with as much sany froid as if she had known him from childhood! Wonderful little school-mistress ! I thought to myself. I came prepared to see a pale, delicate girl—full of shrinking timidity aud dependence beside a haughty and self-sufficient heiress, assured of her position, and acting accordingly. disappointed in both instances—need 1 say agreeably so ? The heiress and belle was an elegant, graceful and dignified woman—the school-ma’am, and beauty—a joyous, frank- hearted, and entirely independent young girl, secmetl^ever to have jenown life except of Tom’s remark that she “had embraced pov erty as a profession,” and was that “much abused and long-suffering institution called a school-ma’am,” and smiled. If she vas, it I didn’t seem to have affected her life and spirits o any dangerous degree; 1 could answer for that. There were other things, too, about that establishment that entirely upset my precon ceived ideas of the proprieties of matters and things. For instance, I could not see why Miss Belle, the poor cousin, should seem to control everybody and everything about the place. Why should she superintend the laying out and planting of the ground, instead of Miss Lan don. Impolite as it may seem, T could not avoid giving a delicate hint to that etfcct, ad dressing the mother. Oh! Helen has not a part icle of taste, com pared with Belle:” said the lady, smilingly, and besides, Belle is confined so much in school that exercise in the open air is very ben eficial to her.” Of course I could not gainsay this, but it did not explain to me Miss Belle’s quiet, matter-of-course way of directing every thing—trifles, they may seem, but still, it went to show her habit of assuming, and I scarcely knew whether I liked it. or not. Still, all was done so calmly, so gracefully, and so appa rently unconsciously too, that I could not find it in my heart to esteem her the less for it One instance of her “way” may suffice as ai example for all. Are you ready, Celia?” she asked, as n trim looking maid appeared at. the parlor door during the evening. “Yes, Miss Belle.” Very well, go on ; come, Mr. Constant,” she added, and Charley rose as though it were no new thing for him to be commanded in that way, and they left the room together. Presently I heard her laughing in an adjoining apartment, and hut a few moments elapsed, when she en tered the parlor again, bearing an enormous Bohemian bowl heaped up with luscious and fragrant strawberries. Constant followed with a silver salver and pitcher, and the servant came also with her waiter of plates and spoons. training Mr. Constant,” laughed Belle, as she went about helping us bountifully, her self; “he used to break every thing he got his hands on, but some of these days some pretty lady will be so grateful to me for bringing him up in the way he ought to go.” “And the way he want* to go, too. 1 presume,’’ said Tom Anderson. “Assuredly,” replied Constant. “Miss Belle is like Wisdom, in one respect at least : ‘her. ways are ways of pleasantness.’ ’ Tom Anderson looked as though he would like to give one of his prolonged it ti , -h-e-ic-- as much as to say, “that youngsters getting over ground too fast—and 1 added mentally her ways may be “pleasantness,” but if you find that “all her paths arc peace,” I’m pro foundly mistaken. Later in the evening i sat conversing pleas antly with Miss Landon by the open window Morgan was entertaining the- mother, on her sofa. I had become so much interested in a little incident Miss Helen was relating, (forsh talked admirably,) that l had not noticed any one leave the room until l saw Miss Belle and a gentleninn promenading at the lower end of the gallery. 1 had risen to fasten hack one of the flowing curtains which seemed to he in Miss Landon’s way, and just at that moment they were advancing to tlie hall door, and I heard her say laughingly, “Oh! very much in deed—very handsome ; but we shall have to take the nonsense out of him—l see that,*’ nnd then there was a masculine laugh, hearty, but low; surely it was Tom Anderson! but no, that could not be ; for in a moment, as I re sumed my seat, Miss Belle entered, leaning on the arm of Charley Constant. “Well, gentlemen,” said Morgan, in his rather grandiloquent style, “I dislike exceed ingly lo make y«»u miserable, hut we must hid I the ladies good-night. Where is Mr. Ander- Andcrson has gone after a “Souvenir d’une^mi,” said Miss Belle. “He has been quarUBing with me for giving Mr. Constant one^lpe fcrcnm^, and I told him to run down the law* Sand get him one also. Why, Mr. An- derscil, you didn’t get you a rose, after all,” she atfdetl, smiling, as Tom entered, with only his haf jn his hand. “Eswttase me, Miss Belle,' the gift would be of nq value, unless gathered and presented by your own fair hand,” replied Tom, gallantly. “AhI and is that so?” she returned, mis chievously; “then to make amends, I shall send you half-a-dozen to-morrow.” “Than* yon; hut stay, I will not thank you until I j^iceive the ‘souvenirs,’ I believe. You do not always keep your promises, Miss Belle; thtft is to say, I’ve heard so,” replied Tom, as we bowpd our adieux. “Ho^ in the world should you know whtehcr Alias Bielle Chiles keeps her promises or not?” I mqufred of Tom, as 1 threw myself down into hii easy chair, after we had arrived at his bouse.* “How ? why—why didn’t I say I had heard it, Air! Inquisitive?” “She seemed quite at home with you. 1 thought, considering that yon were only intro duced this evening,” I said. “Wei!—yes—no—on the whole, come to thinj^of it, I didn’t notice that she did. That frank, free manner is just her ‘way,’ you see; at least, that’s the light in which I look at it. Diq^vou say you felt like ‘retiring,’ Cumber land?” “Retiring from what ? from ‘the field’ be- cai»e she treated you more cordially than she di\me? No, I never retire.” *Km't you! well that’s unfortunate. But Jet& J*lk about the heiress,” said Tom, kicking ** -rmrincu Oh! bless the heiress^ v qnote from that classic melody, the^lfattle fit Prague,’ ‘go to’hed, * * ** , -which being interpret led, mgnitieib, laughed Tom, ns he obeyedInstruc- nnd since jou ‘never retire,’ I Hfcve the honor of wishing yen a very good-night. Con- sidfcr 7iv 'pocked up and directed' to tic ‘htau- f Dreams.’ ISsttdr ship yourself hy jtpreos, Cumberland, #ou want six years off your physi«%nortiy W why man, you actually io#k as If found something fn think 'All* you hove—how very sententious! Wef, brSgforward yo'nr mill-stone to-morrow momin^and.rildielp' you to look into ifcjtif ikehe’s 050thing above another that I’m nat urally eaUowccUwith, it’s the power of seeing inii the n\ys*e^ies of mill-stones. My feelings, when anything conoerns you, Cumberland, are lih| those of the valedictorians—they’re ‘too deep for utterance.’ I’m just as unanimous in your favor, on all occasions, as was the vote that sent the lion. Purple to Congress—no, to the Legislature—well it’s all the same. Never ,rd about that vote now, Horace, I’ll bet the filly and two installments of the Habanas?” l‘I haven't.” I have.’ Then ‘I haven’t.’ You'dl fatigue ytatrself, Cumberland; your conversational owers will give way under this press of ev asion. Your’e growing garrulous, In your pi , age. Hut to return to our mutton—that is say, the election. Purple wanted to go to } > Legislature, and the Legislature wanted a n w member of the right stripe of politics, to v te, you know. P’^rpie determined to accom- n tdate the assembled wisdom of his country - Iowa, or Kansas, or some such jumping-off ppce ; so lie harnessed up, took six stout fel las with him to carry the votes, went out into anew country where, with eyes like double microscopes, and the nose of about fifteen bbod-hounds, you could scare up nary inhabi- flt*- unpacked, demonstrated the power of the brflot-box, and got up from the old log where M was sitting, a member of the Legislature with his ‘blushing honors thick upon him ; dhat is to say, divers caterpillars, ‘daddy-long- legs,’ and such specimens of natural history. But the most wonderful part of the transact’n n i|as the miraculous unanimity that prevailed in this model election. Purple had every voto appreoi- Boston, May II., in Epping, N. H., 1 Boston, and Mike Leavitt, ty-three rounds were f and Finnegas was the beaten blind. There wt re about ‘2<F< special pr »*«ent. mostly frtuu r 1 'ge|i#o&Ton, May 11.—Extensive New England is i „ — farmers, who In some parts of New drive cattle many miles for water. woods arc alao ranging in many localities. At Hynnnis, on the C over 1,000 extensive. i Cape, yesterday, & fire spread is of woodland, nnd *a* quite ff bill In ibw, Cumberland, you will be able to appr ate the extreme of my devotion to your inter- whenever 1 tell you that I’m unanimous.' [to be continued.] Scranton, Mav 11.—One^ guns were fired this afternoon 1 of the news of the passage of the Tariff bill 1 the Housfr. A meeting is called for Monday evening and preparations are being made for a £nmnd dem- onstration. more than 1 In,the neighborhood of Cincinnati, #avs the It of, that city, the fruit trees, without ex ception, present an appearancethat is most en couraging. Apple, peach, cherry, and pear trees are now thickly covered with blossoms; awl, with favorable weather henceforth, the vield-of fruit will be large. * A dying West India planter, groaning to his favorite servant, sighed out: “Ah, Sambc, I am going on a long jour ney.” “Never mind, massa, it am all de -ray down hill!” Edit ing a newspaper down in Alabama seems to be a poor business. An editor in Selma re turns thanks, through his paper, to a number of his friends, who clubbed together and bought him a pair of boots—the first new pair he has had for a number of years. The Meanest AIan in America.—This no torious inv^ividual lives in Cleveland. He ap plied to a justice, recently, for an execution to levy upon the wooden leg of a man who owed him four dollars ! No constable could bo found to serve the execution. The Chinese language contains only forty- two thousand seven hundred and fifteen char acters ; and a knowledge of about one-tenth of these is sufficient lo enable Chinese works to be understood. •' “Thou art all Ice.”—The largest ice-store house in thfe country is that belonging to the New York Ice Company, and situated at Ath ens. It is capable of holding sixty thousand tons. Yerjjatum Rf-portino.—Dr. Scudder, a Hin doo missionary, says he ba3 known Hindoo school-boys to report sermons nearly verbatim —their common mode of writing allows this. An Old Pioneer,—There is a man named Stansbury, now living at Houston, Texas, who moved to Cincinnati when that city contained very Worda. TEmysm's ap*«cn In defiance cf :ht vrfiile [and Kentucky, I have travellM through settlements, traceotsrfavorite hunting. No 1 l.-.'ves. hut knew noli Accursed be tne i country and mad* Our fathers, from their t b«t there 1 fell the Mon, haa sein'd on out- of our varriors. in the brat ion of May-day, that cousin Belle often) son?” he continued, looking rounilthe room. Dreadful Steamboat Disaster. We learn from the Memphis Enquirer of Sat urday last, that on Thursday night, 10th inst., the steamer 11. F. Sass struck a snag near Clark’s Bar, about fifty miles below Memphis, from which the most melancholly consequences resulted. The Enquirer says : The snag entered the boat, at ’midships, ca reening her to the starboard side, causing her to sink in less than five minutes in overtwentv- five feet of water. Of the passenger and crew of the Sass, there were aboard, in all, over BIO souls, the greater portion of whom had retired to bed at the time of the accident. No sooner was the boat struck than the alarm was given by those who were on watch to the passengers, who were speedily aroused and made sensible of the imminent danger in which they were placed. Alany of the passengers, including a nmrtber of ladies and children, in -almost a nude state, rushed to the hurricane deck; while others, in the frenzy of excitement, sprang into the river and were drowned. Even a portion of those who attempted to get above —so rapidly did the boat fill—were drowned, being foiled in their endeavors to escape hy tfie encroaching watefs. No sooner had the passengers, who were so fortunate as to clear the cabin, reached the up per deck than the boat parted, the cabin float ing off, carrying with it over one hundred souls, all of whom were saved, the wreck landing about three miles below. The names of Hi persons are given as known o ho lost, and the Enquirerthinks there are not less than 20 who have found a watery grave. A Saint Louis packet passed shortly after the disaster, and picked up many of the passen gers. The Sass was a comparatively new boat, being in her fifth year, but her present wovtli probably about .>12,000—insured. She had on board about 4S0 tons of freight, and a large amount of money, the most of which His lost. Freshet oh the Pnpajiaco. Baltimore, Friday, Alay 11.—We have had a tremendous rain storm all night. The rain is still falling, though it is somewhat abated There is a great flood ou the falls and the streets in the vicinity tire overflown. It is feared that considerable damage has been done above. Baltimore, ft P. AI.—The flood has about subsided. So far no serious damage has been done, beyond the filling of numerous cellars, and flooding the lower stories of buildings in portions of Holliday, Saratoga, Jay, and Harrison streets, and the Market space.— In some places the water is from four to seven feet deep. So far no serious damage is re ported outside of the city beyond carrying off fences, etc. No damage is reported on the Ohio road, nnd trains are running without in terruption. A Canary Bird Hashing Itself.—Recently a canary bird, belonging to a lady of Buffalo, as it was flying around the room, happened to pick up a long hair, anil, flying with it <0 its cage, commenced some evolutions with it, as though it were about laying the foundation of a nest. By and by the b&ir became entangled in its legs, and flying around the cage it got over the perch and then around its neck. The lady, after some thne observing that the usu ally musical little pet. was silent, went to the cage, and there found the little warbler actu ally suspended hy the neck from its perch, and almost iti the agonies of death. SQUATTER SOVKRKI UfMTA.—The ileoryia Qft.) says: “On the eve of going to Press, we learn hy despatch to the Mommy AYirs of to-day, that Gardner’s Squatter Sovereignty demonstration iti Augusta last night, was another and total failure. Only one hundred persons present, and the meeting adjourned for one week. .Such will be th# fate ui all such treasonable attempt to degrade nnd wrong the South. \\father—Cnovs—Health.—Our section was visited with several good showors of rain yeaterday and last, night, and we still have promises of more, up to tho time of going to press. We understand that crops are very promising, though they have suffered, some what, from drought. The health of this sec tion was never Iwtltr than at present. — Alba ny Patriot, 11 /A. Boastino Ears.—“We have seen, says the 'ynandian, “an car of corn, from the garden Nr. Cohen, of this place, fully matured, and re^jjy f or t j ie table.” Cheat L f(JIIT —Prof. Sanders offers to sup ply water-go* to the citizens of Philadephia, at 7o cents per l,uoo cubic feet. slaves and cowards, wailing winds. The Muscogee wa* once x mighty people. The Georgians trembled at our war-hoop, and the dens of my tribe, itr the distaatlakea, sung the prowess of your warrior* and* sighed for their ~ Now, your very blood is white, your toma . hawks have no edge, your bows and arrows J were buried with your fhthers. Oh! AIusco- gee, brethren of my mother, brush from eye lids the sleep of slavery ; once more strike for vengeance—once more for your spirits of the mighty dead comj drop from weeping skies. Let jierieh! They seiio your land; women; they trample on dead 1" Back ! hack, ay, into the accursed w ves brought C Burn their dwelllings! Slay their wives and children! owns the country and the pale enjoy it! War now! W$r forever! & living! War upon the de; 1 corpses from the grave. Our give no rest to a white inan’s [ All the tribes of th'* North \ war danco Two ’vu* v*r- fj Tecumseli will soon renif® to his country. Aly prophets shall tai ry .tth you^The^wilB Away, away with pomps ofklngs. And splendor of a < Before the Lie _ Monarchicrplc goes down. Your liberties, your rights maintain, And with your la test* breath, Fight for (he end 01 des**ots reign. Be free, aye, e’en ?u t e»4h. Your innate right, your heritage Assert in thunder jtone; l our name will jive on hisiry ’ s page And moniimental i paper, " 1,511 womu tins « orl(1 be with01 A perfect blank—1iU n *| iePt of even ruled. Sudden and Singular Deaths.—Mr. Isaac Foster, of West Medway, Mass., fell, the other day, from a standing position, while listening to a gentleman’s remark at a town meeting, that was held, recently, at that place, and almost im mediately expired. The event was announced to the meetidg, and, out of respect tothe deceased it adjourned. Another sudden and singular death resulted from the above painful occur rence. Mr. Warren Foster, son of the deceased, when informed of the death of his father, fell back, and expi.ed immediately. Plaxt^Ouape Vine.—A poor woman in the country m Santa Barbara, California, has but one grape vine. This bore, in 1837, five thou sand bunches of grapes, each bunch weighing over a pound, yielding her the haudsome sutp of four thousand dollars. When a girl, on leaving Monterey for her present home, she picked up a vine cutting 1 to drive her mule. This cutting she planted on he arrival, and, after the lapse of seven years, such is the result. Selma, May 14—5 11. 20 m. P. M .—The Mont gomery True Blues have just arrived—all well and in high spirits. SPECIAL DISrATCH TO THE MAIL. Selma, May 14.—Two of the Selma Blues, Messrs. Knox and Page, were returning a salute from the Montgonn ry True Blues, when the can non of the Selma Blues was prematurely dis charged, seriously wounding Mr. Page. The lisaster was of course purely accidental. -The London papers 1 of Mr. W. G. Pul xty Failure in Forrester, (Waresboro, stand b.‘ween vou and 4 ^‘ c bullets of your enemies. When the * hile man approaches you, the yawning swallow him up. / Sown shall yo»* sec m J, arm °f fire stretched athwart tb* ^™y* 1 will stamp my foot at Tippop^oe, and the very earth shall shake.— ( r ns acme's I.ife of Gen. Sam Dab. 4 Fast Life in London announce the defalcate linger, the head cashier of the Union Bank of London, whose frauds amount to over £1,123,- 000 during the period of three or four years past. This gentleman is said to have been one of the fast men of London. On a salary of $3,000, he lived in a style that was unaccount able till now. Such events arc calculated to bring into suspicion the practice of making greai shew upon little means. The Brazil CoffeeChop.—By the arrival at this port yesterday of the bark St. James, Capt. C’ruise, from Rio de Janerio, we learn that the new crop of coffee in Brazil is larger than ever before known; the limbs of the trees having to be propped up to prevent their breaking down beneath the weight of the growing berries. The new coffee would not be in market before the middle of June.— Phila. Enq. It is often better to have a great deal of harm happen to oue ; a great deal may arouse you to remove what little will only accustom you to en dure. A lady in Montreal, on the first, recovered $2,000 of a Maj. Breckford for hugging and kissing her rather roughly. She ought to set a high value «>n the money—she got W hy a tight squeeze. The Kimscoi alConvention.—The Savannah He publican of Mouday says : This body ad- journod Saturday afternoon, after a laborious and harmonious session, which, we are pleased to say, terminated with renewed evidences of Christian /.enl in behalf of the Church. Tho next Convention will be hold at Christ Church, Macon, on the Thursday after the first Mon day In May A OKonniA Nuookt.—Mr. K. G. Williams has kindly informed us that Mr. J. 1L Dean found, on Saturday last, a solid piece of gold weighing three hundred and eighty-six dwts., in Naucooohee Valley, on what is called the 1 “White & McGhee lot.”—t'lsirksville (Georgia) Herald. f lajTWe learn that u man named John Hall, a tin pedlar from Rome, was found shot dead Hi his wagon a few miles from LaFayette, one day last week. He was evidently murdered for his money, as he was known to have a con siderable amount on his person when he left LaFayette, all of which, together with hi* watch, was 111 Using when ho was discovered. The Fatal Rifle. Mr. McKerdy, an English gentleman, address ing a volunteer meeting near London, recently, told the following anecdote: “Mauy years ago, when travelling on tft ('on- tinent, I had as servant an old Prussian soldier, who related to me the following remarkable cir cumstance : In 1813 or 1814 he belonged to a corps cfone thousand men of all arms, operating as a guard on the right bank of the llbioc, while the French were in possession of the country on the left of the river. The season was early in Autumn, when the weather was delightful, and the harvest just gathered in. “One afternoon the corps bivouacked near the river for the advantage of water, and the place was considered perfectly safe from attack, as the the opposite bank was a vast plain of corn-stub ble, without a single fence as far as the eye could reach ; an advancing array, therefore, could be more easily seen. The river was unfordable, and about two hundred yards broad. The troops, therefore, considered themselves perfectly se cure from attack, and set about preparing their supper and making themselves comfortable for the night, when a shot was heard from the oppo site bank, and a cry rom the bivouack that a man was wounded. Every soldier started in stantly to his legs, and looked across the river, but no one could see even t K e vestige of an ene my, which greatly surprised all, as there was no covert, and the yellow stubble was especially well adapted to show the smallest object for a considerable distance from the river. “While the whole corps wa? thus gating, a puff of smoke was seen to rise about fifty yards from the brink of the stream, followed hy the report of a rifle, and another soldier dropped wounded. la a moment without the aid of an officer, about one hundred men rushed to the water, and commenced firing at the spotwhence the shots came, although nothing but the stub ble was to be seen. “Soon after there was another report, followed by the fall ot another man, which soexasperated the whole force that nearly every soldier set about firing at the spot from which the puffs of smoke were seen to arise. By this time all were convinced the mischief was done by a single ri fleman. More shot followed and more fell: so thatthc officer in command had serious thoughts of moving the encampment; but the feeling of shame that so strong a force as sixteen hundred nen should be driven off by one soldier caused him to hesitate until eighteen shots had been fired by the rifleman, aud seventeen men were killed and wounded^ when, to the great satisfac tion of all, a man was seen to spring from the stubble, a luck shot having ki led him, but this did not take place until many thousand had been fired at him. Here is an evidence of tho power of the rifle. The man had laid down in a slight hollow, so small that it was not perceptible across the riv- er, and there brought down seventeen men, while they lay in almost perfect safety. He nearly routed a little army.” Eyes of deepest, dark Shining hair of golden hue. Lips like roses filled with dew; Pure m the liliy. Gently as the flowing stream, As the sun’s bright golden beam. May thy life glide on serene. Sweet sister mine. Maid, choosing man, remember this : You take his nature with his name. Ask, too, what bis religion is, For you will ioon be of the same. Woman has no advantages over man ; one of them is that his will has no operation till he is dead, wbershe generally take# effect in her life time. A business man of our acquaintance is so crupulously exact in all his doing that, when ever he pays a visit he will insist upon taking a receipt. When is a plant like a hog ? When it begins to root. And when is it like a soldier ? MHien it begins to shoot. And when is it like like an editor? When it begins to blow. A benevolent man, who proves his wish to save time by throwing it away on foolish cal culations, has discovered that in forty years a snuff-taker devotes twenty-four roojlhs to blowing his nose! uman hands and limbs hare lately been dis covered in the gaano shippied to this country. Somebody suggests that they belonged to a race ot giants, when they are undoubtedly fragments of Chinese Coolies.—Boston Post. “Come don’t be proud,” said a couple of silly young roysterers to a gentleman; “sit down nnd make yourselves our equals.” “We should have to blow our brains out to do that,” replied one of them A Favorite Quotation.—“Fit for treason, stratagem, and spoils,” roust be a favorite quo tation with an editor in Selma. Ala., for, in looking over a paper published in that ilk, a few days since, we found the above quota tions no less than twenty-seven times—being at the end of every article except two. An Irishman, who was lately reprieved, as he stated, the night Wore his execution, and who wished to get rid of his wife, wrote to her as follows: i J “I wu y.»tcrd»y hanged hero; do as 1 did. and boar it like a man.” Nkcro’s View.—A gentleman re- flu- following anecdote not long Tiik 11 la toil to since : A Methodist brother in one of the rural dis tricts of Tcnnessoo. more noted for bi9 tenac ity to his special doctrines than lor consistent theology, was belaboring fearfully the doctrine of final perseverencc at a campmoeting cue hot summer day. Ho dwelt ferrentlv on the soripuralncss of apostacy. and allowed that nol i only many thousands and perhaps millions of (he rank and Hie had perished forever, bat that even David nnd Solomon had missed their grasp on the “horns of the altar,” and were tlmtday in hell. With this dark view of the case, after a three hours' discourse, the exhausted theolo gian aat down. The venerable, but simple- hearted Cuffee, who sat Hat on the ground be hind the pulpit, aftor the last amem was said, rose, drew a long sigh, and shading his head exclaimed: “ Well, my God! Morc’n half o’ dal sar- mint is onpossiblc. Ef ole David and Solomon is in hell, 1 warn to tear dar views out’n the liible. It’s no use in me Iryingep get to heaven liy dar writings, when dry selves.”—■ Jian.fr of 1**111 gone to hell dern The body of man, bones, sinews, tiesh, adipose, hair and everything, is entirely reproduced in the course of seven years, and after that period he is not th« same individual. Consequently, we hope that “gal" to whom we were “engaged in 1852, wont hold us to ourpromise, for,accord ing to physics, we’re not the same fellow. Flirts will please make a note. „ An editor noticing the doceasc of a rich sub scriber, observes that “he has died regretted by a numerous circle ot friends, and leaving a widow disconsolate os any widow need be who has obtained the uncontrollable possession of twenty thousand dollars per annum. More than twenty young men have sent letters of condolence to her/' A school master was one day questioning a class, and asked how many tenses there were. Seven, sir," said a little fellow, with great confidence, drawing himself up to the topmost height. “Prove it,” said the matter. “Well, taste is one; feeling two; smelling three; two cars, five; and two oyes make seven.” “Bridget, bting me the castor oil, the baby is sick.” “It’s all gone, maria, not a drop left." “All gone! why we have sol opened the hot- tie.” “Sure you have had it every day, and I’ve teen you use it myself on your sided,” “Why you don’t say we have been eating cai- tor-oil every day during the salad i “Sure you have.” “But did you not see the bottle was labelled castor-oil t” did, marm : and didn't i put it into the Sar overv day?” n HJ