Newspaper Page Text
“Ladies, you are all mistaken about Mr.
Ktliston. He is neither a poor mechanic,
or a very wealthy man. He had an only
and beloved sister, who lost all her fortune
when te hail just come of ape He placed
her on his estate, allowing her all the pro
ceeds. He entered a mechanic’s school,
determining to make a support in the way
his practised mind dictated. His sister’s,
fortune, in the last few months, has been
restored, and therefore he has received his
hack. This, although not very large, en
ables httn to get a wife, if he desires one;
and tirs standing and family, with which 1
am intimately acquainted, authorize him to
otfer his name even to the proud and high
minded Charlotte Carey.”
Oh, truth! oh, honesty! why do you de
stroy these gorgeous superstructures of
creative genius ? Again and again they
will arise, like magnificent castles in the
air, bearing the semblance of reality, but ,
yet fading and ever fading away before the ‘
light of tiuth. Honesty, with his leveling
touch, dispels the cherished illusions, and
they disappear, to rise again and again in
some more remote and airy region.
We might accompany our young friends
through many agreeable and interesting
scenes, and exhibit them before you in all
their pleasing variety ; but I forbear, hav
ing already informed you that they have
entered into the sanctum sanctorum of life.
Mr. and Mrs. Oliver contributed not a lit
tle to their happiness and pleasure—for
they were happy themselves, and they
were pleased that those they loved should
be united on the journey of liie. They
fell and aily the gentle influence of benevo
lent natures, so that they imparted to all
with them the true joy of the heart.
Miss Ormstead was certainly correct in
one piece of her news—for instance, that
they were to be married very soon—Mr.
Elliston to Miss Charlotte, and Mr. Geffrics
to Miss Emma Carey.
They then went to Savannah, where Mr.
Geffries and Emma concluded to reside for
the Winter. Charles and Charlotte soon
left for Maryland, where, we think, at
this very time, the old family mansion is
made mirthful with the voicesof the young
and happy. Presiding at the head of the
establishment, is that tall and dignified
aunt, who is the very soul and sun-light
of the house. Genevra Dupon. has regain
ed that freshness and beauty she had lost
by suffering. Her face is as joyous, her
stcpVis elastic, her mirthful laugh resounds
as merrily as ever, through the old halls.
Rut when Miss Elliston raises her white,
tapering forefinger, and says, “Beware, my
child, of impulse,” she invariably gives a
moment of thoughtful remembrance to the
past. Mr. and Mrs. Oliver, with their
children and the Georgia brother, are also
thjre, on a visit. This re-unlon is worthy
the admiration of angels!
Those ideas whicTi have been clustering
in the mind of weak humanity, have been
exhibited before Georgians! Those de
n-aivt. wo *.*,u offprt the very Dasi*
of society, have been elucidated by practi
cal incidents. The remedy—-the corner
stone of anew era—may have made its
appearance amid the mystifications of an
inexperienced style.
We hope there are few Duponts, yet it
is not to his character or fate we wish to
call your attention, but particularly to the
fact, that the marriage settlement was of no
avail. This is too general an occurrence
to be denied. How many women there
are, cheated of their inheritance! How
many there are, who have their own meted
out to them, a mere pittance, from parsimo
nious hands! How many children there
are, who are r.ot only supported by the
property of others, but in course of time,
have it awarded to them by law! Is this
right ? Is tins wise 1 Can it be accord
ing to the true policy of a wise and liberal
government ?
The crumb has been “cast upon the wa
ters may the eddy that hears it to the
“lords” of the land, take to them also, con
victions of its truth and of its importance!
May they exhibit a noble freedom from
parsimony, from selfishness, from a fortune
hunting spirit, by giving to the rising gen
eration anew incentive to personal exer
tion 1 And may the women of Georgia,
poor and rich, live to Mess the happy in
fluence of Georgia laws.
American Lithographic Stone. —A’
quarry of fine lithographic stone has been 1
discovered by Dr. H. McKenzie at Talla
dega, in Alabama. The lithographic stone 1
heretofore employed in this country, have
all been imported from Germany. The 1
American stone is stated to he as good as
ihe foiVign. This will be a great benefit 1
to the art, as it will no doubt be obtained
much cheaper at home than to import it.
Taxes of Literary Men.— The fol
lowing gentleman pay the taxes assessed
against their names, as appears from the
Tax List published m Cambridge: Henry
W. Longfellow, $l6O 78 ; James Russel
Lowell, SB3 16. This is pretty well for
poets. Edward Everet, $114: Prof. Fel
ton, $93 12; Prof. Norton, SBB4 52—the
largest in the city : John G. Palfrey, $lO7
02.
A Dutch Sronv I and profiler Utilise
and two other togs vas out hunting next
week, and we trove nine woodchucks into
a stone heap and k ill ten out of the nine be
fore tev cot in.
A N'ovei. Amusement : try it.—Some
times, to amuse myself, 1 give a beggar a
guinea, lie thinks it is a mistake, and for
fear 1 should find It out, off he runs as hard
as he can. 1 advise you to give a beggar
a guinea cometirncs it is very amusing.
Potatoes, —The Salem Gazette says that
several hundred bushels of potatoes, fresh
ly dug, and apparently in a healthy condi
tion, were stored in the cellar of the city
almshouse, a short time ago; hut they rot
ted with such rapidity, and emitted so of
fensive a smell, that it was found necessa
ry to remove them forthwith.
‘f S fla fl &A Jl/Y,
CATCHING A WHALE.
A SEA SKETCH.
We were running down from the Alba
dra Islands with a fine steady breeze. The
morning was bright and clear, and the wa
ter of lhat peculiar color which whalemen
regard as the favorable resort of whales.
I had ihe forenoon watch below, and was
just congratulating myself upon getting
through with my “ double altitudes,” when
the loud clear voice of a man at the mast
head came ringing down the forecastle.
“ There she blows !” was the thrilling
cry.
“That’s one,” shouted the captain.
“There she blows.”
“ That’s twice, by jingo!”
“ There she blows 1”
“ Three times! Where away, Tabor?”
“Off the weather-bow, sir, two points.”
“ How far?”
“ A mile and a half. There she blows.”
“ Sperm whale! Call all hands’”
There was a general rush on deck, each
man trying to get to the scuttle first. Then
came a half dozen loud knocks, and a
hoarse voice, shouting,
“Larboard watch, ahoy! Turn out my
lads! Sperm whale in sight! Heave out!
Lash and carry! Rise and chime! Bear
a hand, my hearties !”
Those who had turned in, rolled out as
soon as possible and buckled on their ducks,
and in less than two minutes we were all
on deck, ready for orders. The tubs were
put in the bout, and the main yard hauled
hack. We all perched ourselves in the
rigging, and kept a sharp lookout on every
side for the whale’s next rising. Twenty
minutes elapsed since the spout was first
seen ; twenty-five passed, and the captain
began to get into a state of nervous anxie
ty. We strained our eyes in all directions
to ‘• make a spout.’ Half an hour flew by
and no spout was seen. It began to look
like a hopeless case, when Tabor, whose
visual organ appeared to have the power
of übiquity, sang out—
“ There she blows!”
“ Where now?” roared the captain.
“ Off the weather quarter! Two large
sperm whales, sir. Go it, boots!”
“Clear away the boats! Come down
from the mast-head all you that don’t be
long there! Bear a hand! We'll take
them this rising. ” shouted the captain, in a
load voic c.
“All ready, sir.”
“ Lower away, then !”
The waist and larboard boats were in
stantly down, ready to 1 bend off.’ Captain
A , and some of the boat’s crew be
ing too ill to man the other boat, we struck
oil for the whales without them. I pulled
the aft oar, as usual, and as, by this time,
I was as tough and muscular as any of my
comrades, the boat danced along the water
in fine style. Although the larboard boat
was much easier pulled, and had the oldest
and stoutest of the whole crew, we con
trived, by unusual exertions, to keep ahead
of her, till the real ‘tug of war’ came.—
Then was our mettle put to test! One of
the whales was leisurely making to wind
ward, not more than half a mile off.
“ Ltiy hack, my lads!” cried P ,
pale with excitement. “Keepthe larboard
boat astern ! Never say die ! That’s our
whale! Oh, do spring—do spring! No
noise, steady and soft's the word.”
We replied to this appeal ‘piling up the
agony’ on the oars. Away sprang our
boat, trembling and shivering as she darted
through the waves. She really seemed to
imbibe the general excitement, as she part
ed the clear blue water, and dashed it
foaming from her bows. Onward she flew !
The larboard boat was hard upon our stern ;
the whale rolling lazily in the trough of
the sea, a few darts ahead.
“Oil, lay hack!” whispered P ,
trembling with eagerness not to be outdone
by the mate. “ l)o spring, my boys, if you
love life! Now's your time! Now or
never! Oh, see him! see him ! how quiet
he lies! Put the beef on your oars, every
mother's son of you ! Pile it on ! pile it
on! That's the way to tell it! Our whale
this time!”
“Stand up, Tabor!” cried P , in a
low voice.
Peaking his oar, Tabor sprang to his
feet and grasped a harpoon.
“Shall I give him two irons'?”
“Yes; he may he wild.”
Another stroke or two and we were hard
upon him. Tabor, with unerring aim, let
fly his irons, and buried them to the sockets
in the huge carcass of the whale.
‘ Stern all!” thundered P .
“ Stern all !” echoed the crew but it was
too late. Our bows were high and dry on
, the whale’s head ! Infuriated with the
pain produced by the harpoon, and doubt
. less much astonished to find his head so
i roughly used, he rolled half over, lashing
the sea with his flukes, and in his strug
gles dashing in two of the upper planks.
• “Boat stove, boat stove !” was the general
cry.
! “Silence!” thundered the second mate,
I ns he sprang to the bow, and exchanged
1 places with Tabor. “ All safe, my hearties !
1 stern hard! stern ! stern ! stern ! before he
gets his flukes to bear upon us.”
“ Stern all!” shouted we: in a moment
more we were out of danger. The whale
now “turned flukes,” and dashed off to
1 windward with the speed of a locomotive,
nrtl O GI IAS E) 8 9
1 towing us after him at a glorious rate.—
We occasionally slacked line in order to
give him plenty of play. k .
A still’ breeze had sprung up, causing a
, rough chopping sea; and we leaked badly
jut the bow. It fell to my lot to keep the
water bailed out and the line clear as the
i others hauled in; a ticklish job, the last;
for, as the second mate said, a single turn
I would whip oil’ a shm : “slick as goose
| grease.”
Notwithstand the roughness of the sea.
we shot ahead with incredible swiftness ;
and the way we walked past the larboard
boat, whose crew was tugging and labor
ing with all their might, was surprising.
“ Hoora for the waist boat!” burst from
every mouth. Three cheers were given,
much to the annoyance of the other boat’s
crew and mate. We exultingly took off
our hats and waved them a polite “good
bye,” requesting them, if they had any
news to send to the windward ports, to be
quick about it, as it was inconvenient for
us to stop just then.
I believe Solomon says it is not good to
be vain-glorious. At all events, while we
were skimming along so gallantly, the
whale suddenly milled, and pitched the
boat on her beam ends. Every one who
could grasp a thwart hung on to it, and
we were all fortunate enough to keep our
seats. For as much as a ship’s length the
boat flew through the water, on her gun
wale, foaming and whizzing as she dashed
onward. It was rather a matter of doubt
as to which side would turn uppermost,
until Tabor slacked out the line, when she
righted. To haveaboat, with all her iron,
lances, gear, and oars, piled on one’s head
in such a sea, was rather a startling pros
pect to the best swimmer.
Meanwhile the whale came to the sur
face to spout. The change in his course
had enabled the mate’s boat to come up,
and we lay on our oars that Mr. D
might lance him. He struck him in the
“life” the first dart, was evident from the
whale’s furious dying struggle; neverthe
less, in order to make sure, we hauled up
and churned a lance back of his head.
I cannot conceive anything more strik
ingly awful than the butchery of the tre
mendous leviathan of the deep. Foaming
and leaping and plunging from wave to
wave, flinging high in the air torrents of
blood and spray.
The sea around was literally a sea of
blood. A‘. one moment his head was poised
in the air, the next buried him in the gory
pool of foam and slime. But this respite
was short. He rose again, rushing furi
ously on his enemies: but a slight prick
of the lance drove him back with mingled
fury and terror. Which ever way he turn
ed, the barbed irons goaded him to despera
tion. Now and again intensity of agony
would cause him ‘o lash the water with
his huge flukes, till the very ocean appear
ed to heave and tremble at his power.—
Tossing, struggling, dashing over in his
agony, he spouted up the last of his heart’s
blood. Half an hour before, he was free
as the wave, sporting in all the pride of its
gigantic strength and unrivalled power.—
He now lay a lifeless mass; his head to
wards the sun, his tremendous body heav
ing to the swell, and his destroyers proud
ly cheering over theii victory.— Brown's
Whaling Cruise.
DIFFERENCE BETWEEN IRON
AND STEEL.
Steel is iron passed through a process
which is called cementation, the object of
which is to impregnate it with caibon.—
Carbon exists more abundantly in charcoal
than in any other fusible substance, and
the smoke that goes up from a charcoal
forge is carbon in a fluid state. Now, if
you can manage to confine that smoke,
and put a piece of iron into it for several
davs, and heat the iron at the same time it
will become steel. Heating the iron opens
its pores, so that the smoke, or carbon can
enter into it.
The furnace for this purpose isa conical
building of brick, in the middle of which
are two troughs of brick or stone, which
hold about four tons of bar iron. At the
bottom is a large grate for the fire. A
layer of charcoal dust is put upon the bot
tom of the troughs, then a layer of bar
iron; and so on alternately, until the
troughs are full. They are the covered
over with clay, to keep out the air, which,
if admitted, would prevent the cementa
tion. Fire is then communicated to the
wood and coal with which the furnace is
filled, and continued until the conversion of
the iron into steel is completed, which gen
erally happens in about eight or ten days.
This is known by the blisters on the liars,
which the workmen occasionally draw
out in order to determine. When the con
version is completed, the lire is then left to
go out, and the bars remain in the furnace
about eight days more, to cool.
The bars of steel are then taken out,
and either sold as blistered steel, or drawn
to a convenient size, when it is called tilt
ed steel. German steel is made out of this
blistered steel, by breaking the bars into
short pieces, and welding them together,
drawing them down to a proper size for
use.
. - -i mm -
FOOD MADE OF INDIAN CORN
MEAL.
Carlyle, in an able article on the uses of
Indian Corn Meal, says, “The Valley of
the Mississippi is able to raise food enough
to supply the whole world.” Alluding to
the Indian Corn Meal that had been im
ported by England (luring the dearth of 18-
47, lie says, that again and again he tried
a mess of Indian meal porrige, hut it had
“a musty taste—it never wanted a disa
greeable tang. In vain was it washed, in
vain was the meal boiled, the musty tan”
was still there.” He finally came to the
conclusion that all the Americans had said
about the sweets of hominy was mere stuff.
Last year, however, he got a present of
some excellent, well-kept corn from an A
mcrican friend, which has altered his old
views about hominy entirely. He now be
lieves it to be an ambrosial dish, fit for a
prince or a poet. We are glad that Uncle
John has received a palatable dish for once,
from Brother Jonathan. It would be well
for the poor of Britain, if thisarticle of food
was more generally used by them. If the
corn be kiln dried, and the meal well boil
ed, t is sweeter than the meal made from
oats, and contains far more nutriment to its
specific gravity. There is a kind of meal
made from Indian Corn that is very scarce
in this city, and which sells at a too high
price, we think. It is made of the inside
of'.he berry—the whole hull being separa
tee from it. It is as white as wheat flour
and very palatable. The price as retailed
is six cents per quart. This is a kind of
food which would answer admirably as a
substitute for oatmeal, to the inhabitants of
Britain, and the northern kingdoms of Eu
rope, who have been accustomed to an oat
meal diet. America might drive a most e.x
tensite corn trade with Britain, if the in
habitants of that country fully appreciated
the good ness of Indian Corn Meal food. We
wish to throw all the light we can upon
this subject, as we know that Carlyle is cor
rect respecting the capacity of America to
supply any quantity of it.
A valuable improvement has recently
been made by Mr. Oliver P. Stevens, of
Ohio City, in the manufacture of hominy.
We have received a sample of it by a gen
tleman who lias come from that place. It
is a great article of food, Carlyle would
smack his lips after a meal of it, with true
ahmentive gusto. The Hon. H. L. Ells
worth, ex-Commissioner of Patents, has ad
vised Mr. Stevens to take out a patent for
the manufacture.
We have a piece of advice to give our
dispepsicai friends, and those engaged in
sedentary occupations, and then we are
done. It is this. Take each a soup plate
ful of hominy and sweet milk for breakfast
every morning, and if you chose, “a cup
of coffee afterwards.” If you follow after
this advice, you will soon give evidence of
the truth of tire old adage, “ Laugh and
grow fat.”
DISCOVERIES IN ART.
A French paper states that Monsieur
Jauron has just discovered the famous
Naiad, all trace of which has been lost for
many years. It was discovered pure and
unimpaired in the subterranean vaults of
the Louvre, where it has lain ever since
1824. What is perhaps, equally curious,
although perhaps less valuable, is the dis
covery, in the same hiding-place of the
famous apparatus for lighting the statue
gallery at night, which was executed by
order of Napoleon, and of which all trace
has been lost ever- since the Restoration.
This discovery was hailed with delight by
all lovers of art, and apparatus is to be ap
plied immediately to its original purpose.
A grand soiree will be given in the course
of the month to artists of all denominations
who may be at the time in Paris ; all na
tions are to be invited, and the experiment
tried for lighting the gallery. The appa
ratus is said to have cost the government
under the Empire more than 100,000 francs,
and to be the result of the united effoats of
all the great physicians of that day.— Sci.
American.
WONDERS OF GEOLOGY.
More than nine thousand different kinds
of animals have been changed into stone.
The races of genera of more than half of
these are now extinct, not being at present
known in a living state upon the earth.—
From the remains of some of these ancient
animals, they must have been larger than
any living animals now known upon the
earth. The Megatherium, (Great Beast)
says Buckland, from a skeleton, nearly
perfect, now in the Museum at Madrid,
was perfectly colossal. With a head and
neck like those of the Sloth, its legs and
feet exhibit the character of the Armadillo
and the Ant-eater. Its fore feet were a
yard in length, and more than twelve inches
wide, terminated by gigantic claws. Its
thigh bone was nearly three times as thick
as that of the elephant; and its tail, near
est the body, was :.i.x feet in circumference.
Its tusks were admirably adapted for cutt
ing vegetable substances, and its general
structure and strength were intended to fit
it for digging in the ground for roots, on
which it principally fed.— Bucklamfs
Treatise.
fi> D J 5 IF IE Y ♦
OUR ELLIE.
Tread softly in this hallowed ground,
Break not the silent shmihercr’s sleep ;
Beneath this little yellow mound
Our darling Ellie lies asleep.
Two years ago, when just the same
The summer walked upon the hills,
From brighter realms than this he cam?,
To lessen, with his smiles, our ills.
Too like an angel from his birth,
He never knew the taint of sin ;
$o the last hour he lived on earth
Was lovelier than the first had been.
As faint and fainter burned the (lame
Os life a mother could not keep,
Murmuring with trembling lips her name,
Chir blessed Kliie fell asleep.
Then here to slumber on alone,
Wc laid him in the earth below.
And withhim to tho grave weut down
That mother's breaking heart of woo I
Vet, mourner, in thy dark despair,
O. weep not hopeietsty for him ;
Though tho bright sunlight of his hair
Long in the earknoss shall grow dim!
The blessed promise of his word
To ,ouls like thiue did le-us give,
! And in the kingdom of our Lord,
. uchebildreu a- our l.llie live ‘
f I’mri’E Car
SUNDAY READINGS October 21, 1849.
1 >
tup: danger of temptation.
“ Watch and [ ray that ye enter not into temp
tation.—Matt, xxvi, 41.
This was the language of Jesus to three
of his disciples, in the garden of Gethsem
ane; and it is a suitable counsel to all his
followers. Observe
The danger to which, we are exposed.
Entering into temptation. Let us notice
The care that should he taken. We must
not cherislrthe thought of sin; the revolv
ing of it in our mind is the first step in the
passage of temptation. We must not ex
pose ourselves to the occasion of sin.
When the mind is unoccupied, it is a fa
vorable time for the enemy. It is the sit
ting, not the flying bird, that is the fowler’s
mark. We must not parley with sin.
Eve was overcome by this. In the hour
of temptation, side not with your corrup
tions, but with your convictions. We
must not enter upon the course of sin. Ap
proach not the borders of temptation. We
should keep at such a distance from break
ing the law, that, as the rabbis say, we
should not touch even the hedge that
gaurds it.
27/ e reason why we should evince this
care. We will give four. The craft of
the enemy. We have a subtle foe to deal
with, who assumes a thousand different
forms to entice and entangle us. The
weakness of our hearts. 11 How weak is
thine heart!” says God.—Ezek. xvi. 30.
How soon are we overcome, and yield to
temptation ! Our personal comfort. W hen
we turn aside into the way of temptation,
how destructive is it to the peace of our
minds! The honor of religion. How ma
ny, by yielding to the suggestions of the
enemy, have brought a disgrace on religi
on, and caused the way of truth to be evil
spoken of! Let us seek help from our
Great High Priest, who “ in that he suffer
ed being tempted, he is able to succor them
that are tempted.”
Fast.— The Governor of North Carolina
has appointed Thursday, Nov. 15, as a day’
of Thanksgiving and prayer.
QDUns [grJTfiSLftg*
For Richarda’ Weekly Gazette*
A NEW COIN.
Mr. Editor: The issue of a seven cent
coin, under the denomination of the ‘ Septi
ceut,’ has been suggested in your paper.
The comparative advantages of this issue
with that of a three cent coin has been dis
cussed in the National Intelligencer of an
earlier date. Still a third suggestion would
be the issue of a two cent coin, the advan
tages of which I have no where seen pre
sented. The coin of three cent value
might be conveniently denominated the
‘Tri-cent,’ and the two cent coin, the ; Bi
cent.”
From the table appended to this article
it will be seen that either the Tri-cent or
Bi-cent possesses manifest advantages over
the Septi-cent, both as to the number of
pieces and the aggregate value involved in
making change. The question of con
venience lies therefore between these two
coins.
The controlling consideration which
should decide upon their relative advant
ages, is one which of itself would exclude
the claims of the Septi -cent. This con
sideration is, conformity to the ultimate
reduction in the rates of postage. Should
the postage on letters be reduced to three
cents, the Tri -cent would be the proper is
sue—if to two cents, the Bi-cent, for the
same reason.
Aside from this consideration, the Bi
cent has the advantage : First, because it
involves a somewhat smaller value in ma
king change than the Tri-cent, Secondly,
because being smaller than tne Gold Dol
lar, it will be more easily distinguished
from it, should that beautiful little coin be
continued in use. Third, anil most impor
tant of the reasons, because it alone of all
the coins proposed, is an exact measure of
any existing coin. A dime, for example,
can he changed into Bi-cents but not into
either Tri-cents or Septi.cents. There are
coins of which the Bi-cent is nota measure,
it is true, but of several coins it is a meas
ure. There is no single coin of which
either the Tri-cent or Septi-cent is a meas
ure.
In our own State there is less need felt
for a smaller coinage than in those more
thickly settled. The advantages with us
are confined mainly to cities and post of
fices. Those, however, who can recollect
the shifts to which our own ancestors were
reduced, when population was still scantier
than at present —the half and quarter dol
lars, themselves halved and quartered—
can appreciate the changes required by the
necessities of a denser population. It has
been our object to show that when another
coinage is thus rendered necessary, Tri
cents or Bi-ccnts offer advantages superior
to Septi-cents in subserving the purposes’
of SMALL CHANGE.
Table showing the advantages of the different proposed issues in making
change:
Change required- Fiece§ required. Nu. of piece*. Aggregate value.
1 cent 1 dime & 1 half dime leas 2 septi-cents 4 29 ct*.
1 “ 2 tri-cents less 1 half dime 3 11 “
1 “ 1 half dime less 2 bi-cents 8 9 “
2 cents 1 septi-cent less 1 half dime 2 11 “
2 “ 1 half dime less 1 tri-cent 2 8 “
2 “ 1 bi-cent 1 2 t(
3 cents 1 dime less 1 septi-cent 2 17 “
3 “ 1 tri-cent 1 3 “
3 “ 1 half dime less 1 bi-cent 2 7 “
4 cents 2 septi-cents less 1 dime 3 24 “
4 “ 1 dime less 2 tri-cents S 16 **
4 “ 2 bi-cents 2 4 “
Like results would follow from a con
tinuation of the table. The first column
for each number of cents is far septi-cents,
the second for tri-cents, and the third for
bi-cents.
id J 3 C iE !L 1 i\ J'J df7~
THE WOULD.
Whether men do laugh or weep,
Whether they doe wake or sleep,
Whether thy feele hear or cold.
Whether they be young or old ;
There is underneath the sun
Nothing in true earnest dono.
All our pride is hut a jest,
None are worst and none are best,
Griefe and joy, and hope and feare,
Play their pageants everywhere ;
Vaine opinion all doth sway
And the world is but a play.
Powers above in clouds doth sit,
Making our poore apish wit,
That so lamely without state,
Their high glory imitate.
No ill can be felt put paine,
And that happy men disdame.
[Wit Restored, 1640.
THE UNIVERSAL YANKEE NATION.
No land is too far —no nook too dark
for their researches. If a taste for copper
should lead you to the bottom of a Cornish
mine there will be found one of the sover
eigns of the great Republic; should a cool
morning tempt you to the top of the grand
Pyramid, you will find cousin Jonathan
astride the apex. Theoasisof Sievah, the
Dead Sea,the Chilian mountains, Beloochis
tan and Timbuctoo all know his visits
and have heard of the glory of his native
cities. Should the north-west passage ever
be discovered, a Yankee will probably be
found there settled on a stranded ice-berg ;
and some fine day we expect to hear that
M. d’Abbadie has come upon a camp of
Yankee Arabs, pic-nicing at the sources of
the Nile. The adventures, energies, and
powers of our cousin-german grow quite
alarming. “ Rough and Ready” has ex
tinguished Bonaparte; the march of Col.
Doniphan into New Mexico has put down
the retreat of the Ten Thousand ; ‘ Mardi’
has forever eclipsed Marco Paolo. Lieut.
Wilkes has put down—but we must take
breath. Time and space fail us before
such an enumeration. An American has
said of his countrymen, that the genuine
Yankee would not be able to repose in
Heaven itself, if he could go farther west
ward. He must go ahead. Prophecy
looks forward to the time when the valley
of the Mississippi shall overflow with this
restless population, and Europe be subject
to anew migration. “ What do 1 consider
the boundaries of my country, sir!” ex
claimed a Kentuckian ; “ why, sir, on the
east we are bounded by the rising sun—
on the north by the aurora borealis —on
the west by the procession of the Equi
noxes —and on the south by the day of
judgment!”
CANINE REASONING.
While I had charge of an academy in
Springfield, (Ga.,) from 1829 to 1836, 1 de
voted a few hours occasionally to angling.
1 went on horseback and took with me a
large dog, which I had taught almost as a
child, to guard my horse while engaged in
the sport. I had accustomed myself to talk
to him slowly but distinctly, and to show
him how I had done this and that. I found
that he understood me. If I said, “The
weather is unfavorable, there will be no
fishing to-day,” he would go oil’ and lie
down apparently in sorrow ; but if I said,
“It’safine day, we shall have sport enough,”
he would jump around in the highest ex
citement.
One evening, at the old of the moon, the
fish biting keenly, I had remained an hour
after dark, and as I had left the horse un
tied to graze and did not see him, I asked
the dog—“ Tiger, where is the horse ?” lie
conducted me to him, and, on my saying,
“ You are a fine, intelligent dog,” he became
overjoyed and began to bark at the horse.
The horse became alarmed, and ran home.
1 then said to the dog—“ Tiger, do you see
that you have frightened Saladin, and that
now, tired and fatigued, I have to go home
on foot ? Now mark me ! If you ever do
it again, I will as certainly shoot you as I
did the squirrel on the tree, or the bird in
the air ? Do you hear 1 Mind ! As soon
as you see my eye on the horse, do you
go behind a pine-tree or bush, and then you
may do as you please.”
On the third evening I went again, and
had forgotten myself the instruction given
Tiger. I was again delayed. On my whistle
he came to me, watched my eye as he con
ducted me to the horse feeding in a small
savannah, and as soon as I saw him went
back and hid behind a large pine-tree. As
soon as I had caught the horse and mou n t e j
he came and with the strongest possible de
monstration gave me evidence of bis se],
complacency and joy. fle ever after f (> j,
lowed th.tt instruction once given, fl.
same dog toiled three hours to bring bar
my horse who had escaped with his halt/,
and had struck off to his former home. an,i
finally seizing him by the halter, actually
led him two miles back to his stable.
soon as the horse was secured, the dog l av
down exhausted by the long and persever
ing effort.
Here was reason. He heaid, he und er .
stood, obeyed, in the exercise of memory
judgement, reflection, determination. I n || J(
last rnstance there was evidently deeper re
flection and thought, and longer and mort
persevering effort than many a child of tea
years of age would hare exercised or made
— lnvestigator.
FALL FASHIONS;
Thus early in the season, there are fev
decided changes. Our ladies are balan
cing between summer and winter. TV
large mantalets are somewhat in vogue
but the most decided novelty is anew style
of sacque imported by Stewart, and being
costly, are still the rage. They will
worn upon the street now, and for opeu
and concert dress through the winter. They
are quite small, fitting closely to the figure,
and are lined and wadded throughout. The
favorite material is heavy cut velvet of ike
richest green, blue garnet, purple and clar
et shades. Turc satin, or a thick mantm
silk, may also be used ; and there are some
in plain colored cashmere and flannel, line,
with silk. Some have no trimming at all,
and can he worn so, or have an addition u
elegant lace to suit the wearer; but the fa
vorite style is a quilted or knotted horde’
of two inches in depth. The sleeves at*
short, not reaching below the elbow, ar„
are set in at the shoulder.
There is little variety in shawls; i l
probably no striking novelties will be is-fl
ported before another season. I
Case ing bonnets, and variegated strain.B
are worn, so far, by those who have mai/H
any change. Most ladies prefer theirsua-l
trier straw trimmed with a rich fall nbbirl
and lined with a dark, bright-bued -.1
The ribbons are extremely beautiful. OkH
of the prettiest patterns, presents the ayl
pearance of autumn leaves, lapped one i r/fl
the other slightly ; another is a rich, bma-M
ileil centre, with one edge in deep scallu rM
the other plain. ■
For dress stuff, we have first, silks, I---H
cade and watered, with art infinite
of older and plain styles. The greatest
eltics are poplins id silk and linen ; they rl
both watered and changeable and are : H
nitely richer than the silks. Our rea
can have some idea of their width, from : : .fl
fact that they come in patterns of
yards, a full dress, price two dollars ;>eH
yard. Many prefer them to velvet eve. H
The fashionable colors are black, <ia:lH
green, blue, violet,and garnet. Cashim
of every variety, and very rich, are nn^H
opened. The Clementine has the apjie&fl
ance of satin damask. Tare and others*
ins are more worn than for many ycarsM
Moaselincs of dark, plain grounds, wi:hii.'B
ures in brilliant colors, and palm-leaH
French chintzes, are worn for
ses. Corsages are almost entirely plamifl
yet; the old surplice and fan waists
partially restored. The skirts are moitlß
narrower than they have been, and rtifl
long, almost concealing the feet. West ■
have more to say on this the ensuingmociH
as well as on new styles of dressing
hair, combs, shoes, and jewelry.—
far October. m I
SHAKESPEARE MODERNIZED,!
Or a Scene from the ‘ Merchant of LouisnZfM
•• Scene 3,” Main Street. — Enter , .IsytH
If Broker. I
Broker.— So you want $3,000, old
low ? I
Bass. —l iln that, for 90 days. k
Broker. —For 90 days, eh 1 B
Bass. —And, as 1 told you, 1 will
Brown as security. B
Broker. —Brown, security ! —Brown
Brown! B
Bass. —Well, what do you say,old
—wilt you do it I fl
Broker —s3,ooo for 90 days, ir ß
Brown's name. ■
Bass. —Them's urn. I
Broker. —Brown is good. I
Bass. —Has he ever been ttndei pretf*
not as I’ve heard on. I
Broker. —llo! no, no, no, no; I
that Brown's very good. To be sure,
rather too deep in that Cannelton
factoring Company ; and besides, 1
lie is speculating in railroad stock H
they tell me down at Hatching's th Jt ß
has a fourth interest in the General
Brown, and some shares in a Coal ■■
besides a fiat boat load of corn on the
to New Orleans. Stock, steamboats B
corn, are very low now. Steamboat ■
up, flats get sunk or run on sand kj
There be land rats that will eat lhrotipß
sack of corn; and water rats, I lllf
poor pilots—and the insurance com I 1 J
wont pay without a suit, lie'll do thouM
he’s worth $3,000, I reckon. I
Bass.- — Yes, 1 should think he B
„ Broker.- -Well, when can I sec |b<’’ , B
Bass. — Come and go round to Wal *B
1 guess we'll find hitn there. . B
Broker. —Yes, and meet n whole m ■
fellows, and have to treat. No, Hir ’ I
your little business, hut you
me at Walker’s, fivedollars a l’°l’' 1 J
Who is that 1 I
Bass. —Brown, by jingo! I
(Enter Brou-n.) I
Broker. —(aside.)
How like a cunning sly old B
looks. He does this thing n°' v 1 H
for friendship : and unless he s
underhand bold on Bass, —a. n>o*V H