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•<?*&>
I’OETKY: -----
WOM A N
nr WILLIS o. CLARK.
Methinks there is no lovelier sight on earth.
Than gentle woman in her earlier yenrs ;
Before one clou I has gathered o’er her mirth, l
Ere her bright eyes grow dim with tears.
\\ hen life the semblance of a dream doth wear, i
Utxduuded by mischances, grief, or guile ; <
Wheu rich delight breathes in the gulden air,
And boundless Fancy wears a joyous smile. *>
1 have bowed down'to Woman, not a» one
Who idly worships at a careless shrine ;
But as the heathen bows uuto the sun,
Whose rays beam round him—eloquent—divine. !
Not like a lingerer m fashions train,
\\ ho smiles and ilaitc. s a believing few ;
Hollow m hear t, perchance, and cold and vain,
V. hose words are fables—ti.oirghfuss and untrue.
But 1 am happy, wheu aboutmy way
These flower, oi being ever chance to spring ;
’1 is like an hour of dreams where tan ics play, j
And geutle wild birdsdauce uu glittering wing,
Carols a shadow then, and m my heart
'1 he well spring, of deep ecstacy a; ise ;
1 feel each scale of loneliness depart,
Lika storm clouds melting from April skies.
Oh, if my prayers might unto heaven ascend,
'Twould be tiiat w ornau might be ever blest ;
That flowers and sunlight iu her path might Lkud,
And Eden's vifiuiis lull her tianqud rest,
1 would tint time might bear upon his wing, I
Untroubled brightness for each fleeting day,
And every scene which hope is picturing
Grow clearer as existence wears away,
Aud as a gift from llcaveu to cheer us here,
I would that woman, when life's hour is done,
Might fade like star-light wheu the atmosphere
Is faintly colored by the approaching sun—
Bussing fi otn earth to a more cloudless scene,
Where brighter gems in purer skies arc set—
Wheie chrystal fountains play in pastures green
Blending in fancy's spell with golden memories yet.
TO DANDIES.
Ye mincing, squinting, smock-faced pretty things
With corsets laced as light as fiddle-strings ;
Cboaked as a toad, and supple as a cat,
About the waist D. sharp, pate B. flat;
Ye cringing, super-servicable slaves,
Ye seli'-cornplacent, brainless, heartless knaves.
\c lizard-looking apes, with cat-fish gills—
Y e scoundrels ! go and pay your tailor's bills.
SCRAPS.
I hate long stories and short cars of corn,
A costly farm house and a shabby barn ;
More curs than pigs, no books, but many guns,
thorn toes, tight bools, and paper duns.
J hate tight-lacing and loose conversation,
Abundant gab, and little information ;
The fool who sings in bed,and snores in meeting,
Who laughs while talking, aud talks while cal’g.
A E0 t'W:
From EUcsuwatawa or the Prophet of the
Best.
SNAKE FIGHT AND BEAR CHASE.
‘ Rolfe,’said Eearth, I never saw a good
reason for a man being serious when be
could be cheerful. Now, if you want lobe
serious, I’ll tell you a story ; I’ll tell you
one that made me serious once for a whole
.day-’
‘ Then give it to ire,’ said Rolfe.
‘ Very well,’ said Earth, * be all attention
and you shall here it
’1 am,’ said Rolfe.
* Well,’ began Earth* 1 ‘was living when
jt happened on that piece of land 1 bought
,of the’ Squire, and a hard bargain it was—
I think lie gouged me in that trade, but
that’s neither here nor there ; I said before
J was living on it. 1 had been hard at
work for several weeks, killing a parcel of
trees, and trying to gel ready a small clear
ing for my next year’s crop, when I thought
I would step over tonne of my neighbors,
swap a lie or too, ami hear what was go
ing on. He lived about ten miles off, by
Lite near way, but much further to go round
);y the swamp, So, taking the near path, I
■ ‘ (tl|g|'t»L;> OH C’rp pl
I went over one evenin'’, and what 1 Lardh I
ever did b< lor I forgot jto take mv gun I
. along. 1 found the 'id fellow at hmm’, and
soon ire I got scaled, I went hard to work'
ami t.iiked him full, After a while he got:
a chance ;'.;id come at me, ami he made up !
(or I :.l lime; he talked me ail over ami a
bout lit spots until I was tired. Then lie
I was just getting under w, ie. h, so 1 turned i
I in, and the next morning rising up very !
early, I started back.’
‘ \\ cP, 1 think it ought io have made you j
seaious,’ said Rolle.
Earth was a little confused at Rolfe’s re- j
mark, but replied :
‘ Come, Rolfe, don’t judge a man so hard |
—you won’t hear me through—l was just j
greasing a little, 1 . li re starling out
‘ Go on then, Earth.’
‘V. ;!, >.s 1 . e.J ■ st;i: ad back, am!
I had got along ..m.ie two or three miles ; the
I sun was rather better than ;m hour high,
: and every thing was right still, when 1 saw
I long the path, where a great big bear had i
turned over a log.’
‘ ll.i'v did you knew that a large bea • j
turned it over ?’ said Rolfe. j
‘Because,’ said Earth,‘the log was a'
very large one ami it was rolled over and '
over, to a great distance—a small bear i
could hardly have moved it, and then he j
w ould only have slipped it on one side.”
‘ Earth, what do they turn them over i
for Z
‘ Rolfe, you ax too many questions.
They turn them over to get the bugs and
insects which are generally under them.’
• Then go on, Earth.’
‘Well, when 1 saw die signs, I feltniigit- !
ly bad, 1 had no gun—old Jnpe wan’t'
with me, and I bad ucv. r been known to
pass a Lear in that way , w ithout taking a- ,
ny notice at all of him; so I considered—:
my kmfe was in my belt, shary as i could '
w ish it; I took it out and drew the edge a
cross my thumb; I felt satisfied that it j
would do me good service, and 1 started off;
determined in my own min I, that I would !
at least take a look at him ; and, if I could’nt
do any thing, that then i would go home. ;
Keeping a sharp look out, 1 got upon his!
tracks,and to.lowed on : i hep seeing where ;
lie had been feeding, and after going along i
fur nearly a mile, in a thick place just a
head ol me, 1 come upon bit::. lie did’nt
notice me at first: so 1 stood and looked
at him, and raised my arms and look sight i
of my linger,just as if 1 had a gun. !
coiihl bate blowed him to pieces.
Bt<t ’twant nothing; Oh! 1 did hate it.’
Say ing so, Earth took oil his hat, and rub
bed his hair. ‘He tvas a peeler ; it fairly
made my mouth '.vatu’ to look at him. But:
there was no use in staying there; so I be- :
gan to talk to him, ami treating me with the I
utmost disgust, he bm kled off, and began
to let bi nst it out a link ■t a time. I wan’t
niinh pleased at bis ccmiuct, but 1 linowed <
it he would only keep out of the swamp,
that I could run h'u.i on the girth; so I
started alter him: iiesiw me coming and
the way that l:e and 1 did curl it, for about
[ hall an hour, was curious. I tell you w hat,
we made every thing clear the track as we i
w ent along.
‘ \\ e were going up a h’l! and I was gain
[ ing on him right f when ail at once, i
I saw Him jump, as if over something, and
change Lis direetii.;' ; ami th n such a rat- I
' ti:i:g I never did L -ar. 1 tlio’t tlr.it tliire '
were at least forty stiaiies all tip i.i a lump. I
'Sol forge, t the be;, r, and stopped to look at
■e’in; ami as long as 1 had been in the.
, woods, I had never seen any thing like it i
' before. As I stopped, they separated, and '
i I saw there were only two —that they were :
; real rattles, taking a regular fight. A fight,
Rolfe,you know I always see, if there is any .
chance; so I jest planted myself, determin-:
ed to look on and see that they had fair,
play. Both of e’m were larger than the ‘
biggest part of my arm, an I as near as I
could guess, about six feet long. When .
they first separated, they crawled oil’ in dis-:
ferent directions a few yards, ami then stop
ping, began to lick themselves, just as if 1
they were a couple of dogs. While they j
were doing this, they would occasion illy
raise their heads, and lock about ’em for a
lime, and then began licking again. They
were so long at this, that I began to think
they were not genuine pluck, but that they
were getting tired of it, and wanted to crawl
oil. However, 1 begged their pardons for
thinking so bard of’em, for after resting a
while, just long enough to cool off a little,
one of’em roared ;he made a noise like an
ox at a distance, ami I tell you what, 1 trem
bled ail over. 1 then noticed them again,
and saw tiiat they were about the same size
i —the one was a dark dingy brown color,
. while the other was a bl ight yaller, covered
with dark spots. It w s the yaller looking
i one that first roared ; ami as soon as he I'm ■
. ished, lie rai.ed hi; bead about a foot ami a j
; half high, curved his neck jist like a horse, 1
' and then bringing his tail over his head, jist
; as if he had been nicked, he began to waive
it horizontally. There was a string of rat-
i ties to it about as long as mv hand, and be i
shook ’em occasioaa!;/. It made the chills j
j creep over me to look at him, he seemed to i
do it so boldly, and I tlimi; ht lie merely ;
: did it, to have some music to begin the war j
I with.
Well when the yellar one roared, it was
just iili" pulling a shovel of red hot coais on
; the old brown ; be fairly sqi all 1. I
was so mad that in an instant he rai ed his
body nearly half as high as he was long and
began to peep about him • at the same time
jaising his tail about six inches and ratt'iiig
■ as if he would shake every bone out of his
skin. He was proper mad, 1 toll you, ami
’ j tr'nnblcd like lie had an azue.
‘But be wan’t satisfied with merely squal
ling and rattling; for he quit that, aid
• opening h.. mouth about wide enough for
. i ine to get my list in, began to str icli liis
I head out, and draw it back ; ami tin o neb
, hissing, Rolfe’ never did hear. 'l'lieyailcr
I one stood his ground like :i man ; there
: didn’t seem to be any back out about him,
and when the old brown began to hiss be
■ :/ ml. a; JVJttlaE, GEOBGIA, TfcJESBAX JWOBWIW, ■,
1 opened ins moiiih until 1 thought he would [
swallow him.-. 11, an 1 lhe way lie did blow
was nothing to nobody. I thought there i
was a hurricane coming- up. Well now
, their dander was so high, they could’nt I
! stand it any longer ; so at it they went,
limy glided ol.—lheir heads and tails were
bolii up ; there wirn’t more than about
three feet ol their bodies on the ground ;
! am! they began to encircle each other like !
a couple ol cliieiiens. They had now quit
lii.-sing am! squalling, ami only rattled once
i in a w l.ile, looking each other straight in
I lhe lace all the lime. Every time they
| went round, I saw that they were getting
I eloser ami doser, ami they looked to me
just like tw o fellows of the true spunk, who
mid snipped ami were eyeing each other
i>. lore they took a roam .
1 acy were gi.i.ig at it so seriously, it
naturally made my Lair rise up. They
were by themselves—there was no other
snake present, to cry hurra for one, or i
I wed d.ue tor the oilier, a thing you know, i
I w nidi helps sometimes ; but they were go- !
I ing to try ii rough roll and tumble for life.
! He J, now 1 was just as much interested
as it i bail c me across a cuppie of men
who were going to take a brush. I dean
lorgot the Lear, ami if the snakes hail
I fought liii sunset, 1 meant to have seen them
■ oui, am. give them ail tlie fair play 1 knew .
j liow. 1 left them you know, circling round ;
- they went round L think as much as three
times, when the (ir.-t thing I knowed, they j
were boih in a Knot, am! sichsqueezing and :
j swelling, and I’atilmg and creeping through
I one ano.tier, 1 net er seed before in all my
• born vitijs. Tiny would lock their bodies
together ami tv.ist ’em jist like the working :
ol a v.um in a screw, ami all the time their ,
, mouths were so wide open that 1 thought
i each was a trying to swallow the other.
' ‘Rolfe, i don’t care what the people say. j
I won’t believe t!iat snakes have bones in I
’em, for you could’nt have tied a thread in- j
to more kiotsthan 1 saw them getinto that :
‘ day. They may be filled with small gris- ;
' ties.’
‘Go on with your story. Earth,’ said :
Rolfe.
j Well I left’em kincked up—they w ere
i tangled lornear halt an hour—and what
do you suppose I was doing then ?
Ah ! God know s Rolfe, ‘it is more than
i can tell.’
E by jmt looking at’em, and straining
ami twi-’ing every joint almost out of place ,
following them in their motions. I did this ;
without know ing it, and 1 never sbouLi |
have founc it cut ii I had’.it began to feel
■ sore all over.’
• ell, tv go back to the snakes—l now .
saw that tire old brown had ketched a don- : i
bie on the rigat yailar, and was spinning i
!;is neck out to about the size of mv thumb. 1,
ii.s ooiiy ;.oi,' began to iinkink, his tongue j,
came out several inches, ami soon alter, i
poor fellow, the old brown i.ad laid him as
straight, out as a lisu book, ilowevei, it
had been a fair light; ami a haul one, after
it was over the old brown blowed jist like
j he bad ris up from a pond of water, where
be had been under ionger than he wanted to,
' and crawling off to some distance, stretched
out and began to lick himself.’
‘V<eli 1 v..is right sorry, and looked on
lor same tune, and hardly knowed v. bat to
: do, but 1 thought ‘twas all over, so drawing j
my knife, 1 w alked up to the bright yal-i
; ler, aud lilting his tail, fetched a wipe and
look oil his rallies. 1 thought they belong
'edto me for seeing fair play. But tn my
i surprise, as I did so, 1 felt bis tail slip
through my lingers, ami saw that the poor
felmw had come too ami was moving off.
But, Rolfe, in cutting them oft I marie ’em
i ratlie, ami such tnmiber squall as the old !
brown did set up—Here Earth whistled.
‘He had.ut been mad befora—be now
, doubled himseli u > in a hoop, and made
after me. 1 streakedit: faster 1 run, the '
more noise i made, and looking behind, 1
! saw him rolling on ; every time he turned ■
over his eyes came up like two coals of fire
’in a dark night. He gained upon me, so
I dropped the rattles, and as 1 did so, lie
settled down upon ’em, spun round jist like I
he was a top, thought it w as a good" lime to |
gvt clear, so I slipped oil, ami continued
my t?;.y home.”
“ Am! that was what made you serious,” ,
said Rolfe.
‘ No, ;t a’int,’ said Earth, ‘ it might have
made me serious ; but since you think so I
lightly ol it, 1 should like to know what
would make you serious?
‘ You mistake me, Earth, I do not; it is i
a good story, ami 1 merely asked for infor
mation ; come go on?
‘ '»ell, said Earth, ‘ I see you believe
in what! sold you, and know how to appre
ciate the snake.-:, 1 will.
“After Met the old brown sppinning
j around as 1 was saying, I, took the nearest
! dirceiiou, and starlevi.olf for home; i had
walked along, 1 suppose, that near as I can
■come at it, about two miles, when here was
• agim”
; ‘ V.’lint ?, said Rolle 1’
: ‘ ’/Ii;, the sarm; bea* that I had .gin sich a
i race in the morning. !!e was setting up
I i.i a tree eating acorns.’
’ J ‘ How <io you know ’twas same ? in-
I quired Rolfe.’
• | ‘Do you know your horse ?’ said
1 ’ Ear'll.
‘ Yes.’
‘ Well, then I know my bear. And as
I j I was saying, be was setting up in a tree;
■ ' [ looked at him for a while and lie looked
'■ at me. lie know’d I had’nt a gun, for be
■ I went a littl.- higher and getting out upon a
1 limb, began to eat as if 1 wa’nt there.
‘ Twas a mighty trying thing to me, to
- see him do for t’wa.; conduct I wa’nt at
I ail used to; so 1 -earehed my head awhile,
"; and b' , gun to thi and a notion struck me.
‘ | ‘ What war it!’ said Rolfe.
I I “ Wdiy, > >’.v in the fir t place that he
"j wax a t •mnenuious fellow ; and that the limb
''; wa ; so fir from any other, that he couldn’t
ijjiimpofl it, without coming down upon the
t‘| ground : and if he did that lie was so heavy
Ortr Hosiiieience —titrr i-'.’ir/.*/.
1 was pretty sure lie wm.i l break some of|
j his joints. So I draw etl my knife once ta i
: twice across my shoe and started up ; ever', j
thing went well ; the higher 1 got i p, the j
; I'ltlier out he v. nt upon the limb ; his head i
was from me, ami the Einb was so small,
I know’ll he eould’nt turn round. So 1
crawled right at once to where it branched
olf from tiie tree, am! thaw ing my knife, 1
determined if be left that limb, he should
jump off. He now began to think how tick
lish he was situated, ami he was mightily
scared; he tiimbled all over, and kept
squatting as if he wonk! jump, but he
couldn’t git bis courage up; be tried to turn
round and would have come al me head
foremost, but the limb was so small he
couldn’t and ; • squatted ilown and cried
like a child. He liiou/it he conld make
me lo.give him, but t’want nothing. 1 be
gan to shake, ami he slipped, but be caught
ami swung with his body under the limb;
i lie made a mighty pitiful cry and scrambled
: up. He knew it would’nt do to stay so lar
; out, that 1 would shake him oil’, so be be
gan to back right w here 1 was, thinking he
could back by me, I was laying on the
the limb, anti he ran upon me so fist, that
he like to have knocked me oft'; be presesd
; agin me mighty bard, ami I hadn’t fairpiay,
; but 1 got my knife and making over hand
picks 1 popped it into him every time. I
I Hadn’t a good purchase, and he stood it so
'•mg, I began to think there was no pint to
my knife. But alter a w hile the metai told,
j aud he backed out, ami crawled towards
the eml ol the limb again. I kept seeing
him turn his head towards his rump, and
I knew 1 had been into him. But 1 had
done no good, lor there he seemed resolv-
,ed to stay. 1 hollowed and shook and did ;
, every thing 1 conld, but he would not
budge an inch. So I resolved to crawl :>!-
I ter him, knowing if 1 could only get one
more lick, he would be sure to jump off.
II was a mighty ticklish business, but 1
stretched out and began to pul! myselfa
long—l felt the limb bend, but I saw if I
could only get one foot further, I could
reach him. So 1 drawed myself up, and :
stretched out. —1 waked up just about sun- '
set, jist as if 1 had ris from a sound sleep, i
“1 did’nt know w here I was, until I look- '
ed about ami saw the limb which hail been
broke efi; 1 saw the print where he fell,
and tin t all he kit me, so 1 made tracks j
for home, determining that I would not get
into another scrape that day. Now Rolfe, .
that’s the time when 1 was serious; wheu ;
I was I\ing mid r that tree.
From the Extra Globe.
The following beautiful passage is taken 1
from an address delivered by the lmi:or.<ble ,
LltWis Cass, before the National ili.itori-j
cal Society, i'.i t..-e Capitol, at \\ ..shiugi. n I
on tiie SGtli January last.
“We may k-nve lhe splendid monarchies i
ol the other hemisphere the decorations ■
with w ich they surround their institutions,:
it juicing that our own political edifice is;
free from any meretricious ormtmt nt. But:
the promotion of literature belongs to all !
ages, and nations, and governmets. “ Nor j
am less persuaded, said the patriot, first ;
called to administer lhe present eonstit..lion,
ami whose memory is already sanctified in
his virtues ami services, “nor am 1 less pur
saaded,” he said in Ins first address to Con-I
gress, after he had entered upon the execu- '
lion of his duties, “ that you will agree '
with me in opinion, that there is nothmg I
which can better deserve your patronage |
than the promotion cl’seience and literiiiarc. '
Knowledge is, i;i every country, the surest I
basis of government receive their impresions •
so immediately from the sense of the com-j
munity as tn ours, it is prnpm tionabiy is- i
sential.”—V, underfill man ! Time is the
great leveller of human pretensions. The
judgment, which lie pronounces upon men ;
and their actions, is as just as it is irreversi
, ble. How few of the countless throng, who,
: in the brief day of their pride, looked down
■ upon t’ cir fellow-men, or who w ere looked
up to by them, now live in the memory of
mankind ! And as we recede from lhe i
I period in which they lived and flourished, ;
| their fr me becomes dimmer and dimmer,
till it is extinguished in darkness. The
I world has grow n wiser in tiie estimate of
; human wortli, and the fame of common
| heroes lias become cheaper ami cheaper. —
: But we have one name that can never die.
I One star, winch no night of moral darkness
i can extinguish. It will shine on brighter
! and brighter and brighter, till it is lost in
I the eflulgeuce ot that day, foretold in pro
phecy am! invoked in poetry :
“ W hen heaven its sparkling portals shall display,
And break upon us in the flood of day;
i\u more tiie rising sun shall gild the morn,
Noi evening Cynthia fill her silver horn;
But lost, dissolved in thy superior rays,
One tide ot glory, one unclouded blaze,
O’erilow thy courts; the light himseilk.liallshine,
Revealed, aud God's eternal day lie thine.”
“ Hapj cn what may to our coi.ntrv, this i
treasure can never be wrested from her.—
Her cities may become like Tadmor, her
fields ii :te the Campagna, her ports like '
Tyre, and her hills like Gilboa, but in all
the wreck of her hopes, she may still proud
ly boast-that she lias given one man to the
' world who has devoted his best days to the
I service of bis countrymen, w ithout any oth-
I er reward than their love and his own self
approbation; who gladly laid down bis
arms, when peace was obtained; who glad
ly relinquished supreme authority, when
the influence of bis character was no long
j nr wanted to consolidate the infant institu
lions oi the republic, and who died ripe in
I years and in glory, mourned as few have
; been mourned before him. Here, in this
; hall, w hose foundations were laid by bis
j own hand; here under this dome, which
looks out upon the place us Lis sepulchre;
here, in this city, named from his name, and
selected lor its high object by liis choice,
li t us hope that his precept will be heard,
' and his example heeded through all suc
ceeding ages. Ami when these walls shall
■ be time-worn ami time-honored, and the
' American youth shall come up, as they w ill
come up, to this temple of liberty, to medi
tate upon the past, and contemplate the fu
ture, may they here find lessens r.nu exam
ples for w isdom aud patriotism to study an’g
to emulate. Aim! win o the votary oi'free
doio shall make liis pilgrimage to the tomb
of Mount Vernon, and lay his hind upop
the lowly cen:etri, let him recall the vir
tues, and bless the memory cf VVASiL
ING TON.
“ Vi lieu the diffusion of knowledge is rec
omm nded to the consideration of lhe Gov
ernment by this authority, I may well be
spared ail effort to illustrate its importance.
But its effects 1 may briefly advert to, in
splendid effort of literary distinction, whith
exhibits the triumph of intellect during tbe
long period oi’ twenty centuries. 'lj.
t. .• teiritmy of Attica, i cntain’mg ;. v out
thirty miles squ ire, and haifa million of in
habitants, furnishes a pregnant lesson for
the world. T'iiere liter;.lure flourished,
freedom prevailed, lhe arts and sciences
were cultivated, and genius was honored
and rewarded. She sent out her armies and
navies, wherever her interest or honor re
quired. .She repelled the Persian hordes
from her land; she gallantly maintained
her independence fora long series of vears,
and she became lhe school of antiquity, im
parling to all other countries the treasures
oi her knowledge. How proud a monu
ment she now is, even in her desolation?
From the Ganges to the Saint Lawrence,
where is tiie m m ot inteliigence who does
not look upon her fallen fortunes w ith sor
row, and upon her future fate with solici
tude? The Turk has ruled in the habita
tion of Pericles; and lhe horse-tail has
waved where the regis was displayed. But
lhe Partheon still stands, though in ruins,
yet in glory , a fit emblem of tbe country
it adorned in its pride, and now hallows in
its decay. Am! v. hence this tiiumph of the
feeble over the strong? How happens it,
that this small spot is, aud has been the re
vere done of the earth? The school-boy
upon the Missouri talks of lhe lliussus.—
The ardent youth, who, at Bunker’s Hill
and New Orleans, gazes with intense in
terest upon those fields of blood and re
n w :i, has room also in bis heart for the
stories of Marathon and of Salamis. The
lover of ihe line arts, who surveys the works
of tbe chisel, w hich already in our country
have almost fashioned the marble into life,
still thinks cl Praxiteles, and concurs in the
universal opinion of artists, that the Venus
de Medic’.s is yet the mode! of statuary
beauty.
“And the patriotic citizen, while he bles
ses God that he was born in ti e country of
Vi arren, and Hancock, and Franklin, and
Jeficrsoi), casts a look oi reverence upon
the land of fcccrates, and Aristides.
“Ail this is the triumph?':!’intellect; the
mcmimeiit and the reward of public spirit
and intelligence, and the evidence of pri
vate devotion to ail those pursuits, which
give to mind its ascendancy over matter.”
“!■ 6 WAS FRA IN!”
“ O ! you're a prentice !” said a little
boy the other day to liis companion. The
addressed turned proudly round, and while
ti:e fire of injured piiile aud the look of
pity weiL strangely blended in bis counte
nance, coul.y aiisflrered, “ So w AS FltA-XK
-1.1.x’!”
'.’’his dignified reply struck me forcibly,
and 1 turned to mark the disputants more
closely. The former 1 perceived by his
cress was ol a higher class in society tlrm
i.is iinmhie, yet more dignified companion.
Ine I;.iter was a sprighily active lad, scarce
12 years old, ami coarsely but cleverly at
"iired : but, young as he was, there was vis
ible in his countenance much of genius,
manly dignity, and determined resolution;
while that of the former showed only foster- |
ed pride, and the imagined superiority of
riches.
That little fellow, thought vve, gazing at
our young hero, displays already much of
tiie man, though his calling be an humble
one. Once, “so was Franklin,” and the
world may witness in our little ‘ 'prentice,'
: as great a philosopher as they have already
■ seen in liis noble pattern. And we passed
on, buried in meditation,.
The motto of our infantile philosopher
contains much, too much to be forgotten,
and should be engraven on the minds of
all, IV hat can belter cheer man in an hum
ble calling, than the reflection that the
greatest ami best of earth, the greatest
i statesmen, the brightest philosophers, and
the proudest warriors, have once graced the
same profession ? Look at Ciircinnatus! Al
the call of liis country be laid aside the
plough, and seized the sword. But after
wielding it with entire success, when liis
country was no longer endangered, ami
public aflairs needed not liis longer star, he
‘ beat his sword into a plough-share,’ and
returned with honest delight to his little
farm.
Look at Washington! What was his
course of life? He was (list a firmer ; next
a commander in chief of the host of freedom,
fighliiig for the liberation of his coumry
from the thralls of despotic oppression;
next called to the highest seat of govern
: menl by his ransomed brethren, a President
i of lhe largest republic on earth; and lastly,
a farmer again.
Look at Franklin ! lie who
“ W ith tho tlituider talked, as friend to friend,
And wove his garland of die lightning’s w ing,
In sportive twist.”
What was he? A Printer!—once a me
nial in a printing-office!
Poverty stared him in the face—but her
blank, hollow look could nothing daimt
him. He struggled through a harder cur
! tent than most men are called to encounter;
: but he did not. yield. He pressed manfully
; onward—bravely buffeted misfortune’s bil
lows, and gained the desired haven!
What was the famous Ben Johnson? He
was a bricklayer, or mason! V hat was he
in after years ? ’Tis needless to answer.
But shall we still go on, ami call up in
proud array all the mighty host id’worthies
i that have lived and died; who wefe cradled
io the lap (j pemiry, and r<-ceived their first I
L.'sson in the school of aL'ittion? Nay, v.e
cave cited in.taaccs cnoniih already; yes,
more than enough to prove the point in
question; namely, that there is no profes
sion, however low in the opinion of lite
world, but Las been honored with earth’s
greatest and her worthiest, .
I oung man ! Does the trim Lam! of mis
fortune press hard upon you, ami disap
pointin' nts well nigh sink your (lespairing
soul? Have courage! Mighty ones have
been your predecessors—ami have with
stood the current of opposition that threat
ened to overwhelm their fragile bark!
Do you despise your humble station, and '
repine that Providem e has not placed '.on i
tn some nobler sphere ? /lurnii.r notagainsl !
li.e u. -pen ntioris cf an ad-wise 4,'rt: :i. ,r —!
xxememLer that Wealth is m» criterion of:
moral rectitude, or intellectual worth ; that;
riches, dishonestly gained, are a lasting I
curse; that virtue and uprightness work I
out a rich reward, and that
‘•An honest inan is the noblest work of God.”
And when dark disappointment comes,
don’t wither at her stare; but press for
ward, and the prize is yours! It was thus
with I‘ranklib ; it can be thus with you !
’xis well worth contending for; and suc
cess may attend you, and the “Stats will
be brighter than the Stripes.”
[G’.'AiZ Recorder.
Paddy and the Echo.—“ Patrick !
where have you been this hour or more ?
1 oti must not absent yourself without my'
permission.”
“ Och, never more will I do the like. '
sir.”
“ Well, give an account of yourself,
you seem out of breath.”
“ i ait, the same I arn sir; 1 never was i
in such fear since 1 come to Aiiieriky, I’ll
sell ye. all about it, sir, when I get breath
wonst agin.”
“ I beared you telling the gentlemen of!
the wonderful hecho, sir, ever in the woods,
behint the big lull. 1 ihocht by what yon !
said ny it, that it bate all the echoes uv
ould Ireland; sir; and so it docs by the'
power ! Well I just run over to the place !
je was speaking uv, to comers a bit with
lhe won de r itd creathur. So said I, ‘Hillo,
liiilo, htdo !’ and sure enough the hecho
said, ‘ ILilo, Inllo, hi.lo ! you noi.y ras
cal 1’
“ I thoch that was very quare, sir ; and
I said, ‘ Hillo !’ again.
“‘ lldlo, yourself,’ said the hecho, 1 vou I
begun it first,’
“‘What the devcl are you made uv ?’
said I.
“ ‘Shut your month,’ said the hecho.
“ So said I, ‘ye blathern ‘scoundril, if ye ■
was flesh and blood, like an honest man
that ye isn’t I’d hummer pe till the mother
oi ye Would’t know her independent sen,’ !
“ And what do you think lhe hecho said
to that, sir ? ‘ Scamper ye bast of a Paddy,’
said he, ‘ or fate if I catch vou, I’ll break
ivery bone inyour ugly body.’ Au’ it bit
my head with a stone, sir, that was nigh
knocking the poor brains out of me. So 1 i
run as fast as iver I could : and praised be.!
all the samls I’m here to tell you of it, sir.” ;
ETERNITY.
The following views of eternity is from ;
the eloquent Semrin, in tin attempt to des
cribe the process of his mind, in endeavor
ing to form mi idea refits duration.
‘ I avail myself of whatever 1 can con
ceive most long and durable. I heap im
agination, conjecture on conjecture. First
1 consider those long lives, jvhich all wish,
and few obtain, i observe these old met),
who live four or five generations, and who
alone make the history of age. Ido more;
L turn to ancient chronicles, 1 go back to
patriarchal age, and consider life as exten
ding through a thousand years, and I say
to myself, till this is not eternity—all tiii<
is but a point compared to eternity. Hav
ing represented to myself real objects, I
form ideas of imaginary ones. 1 go from
our age to lhe time of publishing the gos
pel ; from thence to the publication of the
law; from the law to the flood: from the
flood to tbe creation ; I join this epoch to
the present time, and imagine Adam still
living. Had Adam lived till this lime in
fire on a rack, what idea must we form oi
his condition ? At what price would we
•igiee to expose ourselves to misery so
great? what imperial glory would appear
so Morions, were it to be followed by sm h
woe? Aet liiis is not eternity ; nil this is
nothing compared to eternity. I go far
ther stiil. 1 proceed from imagination to
imagination—from one supposition to ano
ther. [ take the greatest number of y ears
that can be imagined. ! form all these in
to one fixed number, mid stay my imagina
tion.
After tins, I suppose God to create a
world like :h<s we inhabit: I suppose crea
ting it by forming one atom after another,
ami employing in the production of each
atom the time fixed in my calculation just
now mentioned. What numberless ages
would such an arrangement require? Fi
nally, I suppose him to dissolve and anni
liilete lhe w hole, ami observe thesame.me
thod in ibis dissolution, as he observed in
the creation and dissolution of the whole.
What an immense duration would be
consumed !
Yet this is not eternity I All this is but
a speck compared to eternity ! !”
Our brother over the wav gave us a spe
cimen of Lincoln county poetry a few days
ago. We think we have got a verse to
match i l , all the way from New Jersey.
An editor down south thinks the first line
it will characterized by the r/og-gerel :
I; lion I'cr ey’s dog her arms ».iq>r:sun,
1 often wish my lot was liis.;:—
j.ow ofirii ; -h.iiirl slaud cud inra
To got a pai from r-mt’. . ii|;e :i
A bachelor b: inc.miinr; t!;e prospect oi
celibacy, said, “ W hat can make the bitter
1 C,, P down A wit in the company
exclaimed, “ A lass 1 a fires !”
liV S‘. L. M<:««rm7w
SOLE'] iwrid'il’-
Feeling like thunder.—Dick ami
been jilted by a flirt, and fell awfully—all
down from head to feet—that is lo say.
“ (Irew nat the heel, ami down at the mouth.” •
To “ sum monize” tbe whole, |i(‘ had the
•• sulks.”—He came nut of the hpnse of bit
10.-t diilcinen be was met by a crony
With—“ All Dick ! good morning to you,
what a glorious day.” “Ob conic ‘ none
ofyour blarmy.” “ Blarney ! w!:v what’s
lhe natter? By (he way Dick, did you
know i was an excelleiit'tbermometei j
(an tel! by mv feelings when it is going to
ram.— Booh! I should think we might have
liiJiluing s<mi|.,’ V‘iy possible," quoth
Dick, “ for 1 myself fed like thunder.' 1
| )l,< ‘ being released from a trou
: . ,n,e . ■ J ;,j|d a went t 0...
me gate pl Paradise. Peter asked him ifho
l;ad ever been in purgatory ? f‘ No,” said
the tailor, “ but 1 have been maried.”—
I” says Peter, “ that is all the same.”—
I lie taimr Lad but scarcely got in before a
ml turtle eating aldcrpian came pnfiing and
MowingHalloo, yon fellow,” said he,
“ open the door.” “ Not so fast,” said Peter
“ have you been in purgatory ?’MJ No,"
sum the aidermaii, “ but wliaj. is that to the
ptjrpose ? you let in that poor half-starved
i .hoc and lie had no more been in Purga
tory than I.” “But be had been married,”
said Peter. “ Married !” exclaitned the ai
derman. “ Why I have been married
twice.” “ Then pray go back again,”
said Pefer, “ Paradise is up! the place for
fool-.”
A “Cockroach Society” has been frerpied
in one ol tbe towns of England, for (be pur?
pose ol catching those troublesome insects
ami squeezing the oi! out of them. They
take them as they do fleas, by the “p;:pe pf
the neck.”
A Poetical Joke.— An editor advertises
the follow ing as ‘ a joke’ but if a crojv had
looked at us in that way, we should have
thought it a very serious affair : “One of
our poets, a remarkably cadaverous look -
ing inan, recited a poem, descriptive of a
country walk, in tyhich the follotvirg cop
pie t occurred :
“ The rcd.breast with his furtive glancp,
C'mncs ami looks al me askance.”
Upon which a wag exclaimed:
“ Gad ’ if it had been a carrion crow,
lie would have stared you full in the jiicc I know.”
z\ clergyman who had a considerable farm
as was gem rally the case in our forefatliei
day s, went out to see one of bis laborers,
who was ploughing in the field, am! he
I found him sitting upon bis plough, ami ro
lling liis let m. ‘John,’ said lie, ‘would it
; not be a good plan for you to have a stulj
j scy the here, and be btibbing a few btreb. s
, w hile the oxen are resting?’ John, with
! a countenance which might well have be
j come the divine himself, instantly returned
—“Would it not be well, sir, for you to
, Lave a swindle board in tbe pulpit, am|
when they ate singing, to swingle a little
flax ?’ I’lie Reverend turned on his liepl,
laughing heartily, and said no more abupt
■ hubbing bushes.
Eeslruclion of the Bowery Theatre. l>y
Fire.
About 5 ii’doi k, yesterday niprnipg, tl.i.;
immense edefiee was discovered to be i n
f lire, and such was the rapid progress of the
i (1 imes, tiiat before the lapse on an hour,
the roof fell in, with part of the rear wail,
| and every material in the house was con
sumed ; shortly after, the front wall fell,
with a tremendous crash, into the street!
leaving the stately columns, thatso recently
adorned the building, alone uninjured.
An effort was made to save sonie of the
moveable property of the establishment,
but it turned out abortive, The whole
stock of rich and costly wardrobe,
ding tbe splended wardrobe of the Italian
Opera company, was consumed —together
with scenery, decorations, machinery, &ie.
valued at more than one hundred thousand
dollars. We regret to state that the success
! lui authoress, Miss Medina, is among the
sufferers by 7 this fire, having invested the
entire proceeds of her writings in tbg con
!cern.
j Mr. Hamblin’s loss, we regret tp state, i$
almost overwhelming, being nearly all <>f
the proceeds of bis busims froi* theliriij
he undertook the arduous and responsible
j situation of manager, to tbe present time.
As a manager, Mr, Hamblin has evinced
singular industry, judgment and persever;
ance, to those trails of character and to his
liberality, the public are indebted for a sue;
cession among the most brilliant and suc.t
cessiui plays, ever produced in this city.
The building and lot, as we learn, were
the property of Messrs. Hamblin. Hamilton
and Gov< rneur ; the former being the larg
est proprietor. There was nut little insur
ance on it, or its contents, ref creurse lhe loss
is very heavy. This thpatre was ic-huilt,
about eight years ago, in GO days ; and as
lhe foundation is good, we shall not be sure
prised to see it go up in a very short tinii‘
again, as Hamblin’s friends are poperfii|
: ami w ealthy, and as many of them are iire
; terested in having a Theatre in t!;e neigh
ibrerhood.
Various opinions prevail in regard to the.
manner in which the fire was originated ; bu|
the more reasonable supposition is, that iq
the repeated firing which takes place in
Lit Fitte, (the piece performed the nigl t
before the lire,) the wadding qf one had
logeil among some combustible matter, and
been unobserved till the Theatrg was closed,
after which it may have burned during th ■
night, until sufficiently ignited to cause a
blaze, ft matters pot, however, Low if
caught—;!:e Theatre is destroyed—and in
:> iitien to the great pecuniary loss ofthos”
concerned, the p!;re-going public mast
‘ ’re . • >e, submit re. tl.f Icre-s of tin w
.mas i mm f.i'mmeiit.
The report that one or more persons 10.-f
their lives m the fire is nnfonmled. Two
I or three individuals were sery slightly i;;_
j'.ired by the fall of the front w ail.
