Standard of union. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 183?-18??, January 28, 1840, Image 1

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F.dilcd hy THOMA** HAYMIN. VOLUME VII.—NUMBER I. THE STANDARD OF UNION, H« V. 1.. 1«»BIAM»A. rVHI.ISHKR (by authority) OF THK LAWS OF THK UNITED STATES. HJF* TERMS.—Th re# Dollars per nunum. No subscription taken <ur less than a ymi, and no paper discontinued, but al Uic option of the publisher, until nil arrvmiiges are pant. CHANGE OF hIRFC I'lON.—We desire sue’* of our subscribers •a mn\ hi any line wish llie direction m their papers changed trom one Post Ottice to another, to i norm us, in nil eases, ol the place to which lhev had been previously rent • •* the mere order to forward them to » ditierent oiHev, places ir almost out of mir power toeonipix, because have no uterus of ascertaining the office from which they are »r --by a Heart h through our whole subscription J book cont am mg several thousand mimes. A >' EK I'lSI. MF. NTS inserted al the usual rales. Sales of LAND, vagi-uKidnoio** Executors, or Guurdiuns, are required by law to he tilst Tues lay in the month, between the hours ot ten in the folml three in the aliertmon. ai the Court House tn the coun ty tn wh property is situate. Notice of hose sales must be gi-, ven in a pum\ gazette SIXTY DAYS previous tothedav ol snle. . t Sales at N ECHOES must be at public auction, on the first Tuesday ot the month be,ween the usual hours of sale, at the place of public 1 tales in lhecouihy where the letters testimentary,of Administration or , Guardianship, imiy have been granted,first rivinff SIXTY DAS’S no tice thereof, in one of the public gazettes of this State, ind al th *do»>r of the Court House where such sales are to be held. Notice ‘or the sale of Personal Property must be given iu like man ner. MIRTV <) \ VS pievious to the dav of sale. Notice to rhe Debtors and Creditor* of an Estate must be publish* FORTY DAYS. Notice dial application w ill tie made to the Court of Ordinary ‘leave to sell I.AND, must be published for FOUR MONTHS. Notice for leave to sell NEGROES, maat be published for FOI K MONTHS before any order absolute shall be made by the Court thereon. Notice ol Xpplication for Letters of Administration must he publish •d THIRTY JAYS. Noth eof Application for Letters of Dismission from the Administm tion nf an Estate, are required lo be published monthly for SIX MONTHS. TII E M I D N IG H T WIN D. BY WM. MOTHERWELL. Mournfully • uh, mournfully, This midnight wind doth sigh, Like some sweet plaintive melody, Os ages long gone by : • . It speaks a tale of other y ears, Os hopes that bloomed to die— Os sunny smiles that set in tears, And loves that mouldering lie! Mournfully* oh, mournfully This midnight wind doth moan ; It stirs some cord of memory In each dull heavy tone : The voices of the much-loved dead Seem floating thereupon. All, all my fond heart cherished Eiv. death had made it lone. Mournfully oh, mournfully This midnight wind doth swell, With its quuint pensive minstrelsy, Hope’s passionate farewell To the dreamy joys of early years, Ere yet grief’s canker fell On the hearts bloom—ay! well may tears Start m that parting knell! KNOWLEDGE AND VIRTUE. The following article is from the Old Dominion, an nbly-ccmducted paper, pi inted at Portsmouth, Virgi nia. It contain' much good sense and sound argu ment. and is well worthy the lime its perusal will occupy : If there is any one subject in which we feel a deeper interest than any other, and, perhaps, we might sav ALL others, it is that of Education. It is an object ol paramount cons'qnence with us; it is interwoven, with every fibre ol the heart, and blended with evei v pt i'.cipl- of the mind. If-there is a consummation more ardently desired than any other, it is that we may see every poor man’s child, ay, every child in the land, furnish'd with the means of acquiring knowledge at a common scho'd. It has been j. mat ter of grief and wonder, to witness so great a degree of aparthv and inattention, upon a question of such stupendous importance to the American people ; wi know not how to account for it—how philatt hropists, patriots, Christians, can justify their criminal negli gence on this subject, we must leave to their own consciences to determine. For our own part, from this time henceforward, we are determined lo bend our energies upon this point. It shall not be our fault that thousands of the rising generation are al lowed to grow up in ignorance, indolence, and vice. Not only have the American people been wickedly remiss upon the subject of providing more general means for the diffit'ion of knowledge, but even those they have provided have been outrageously abused. They have been expended in educating American youth to become— what 2 Not republicans— m>t lovers of equal rights—of democracy ; not to become ardent advocates of the largest liberty, and to consult the greatest happiness of the greatest number. No! The tendency of the system of education pursued at n-arly all our colleges, and other seminaries of learn ing, is to make aristocrats ; to lead the pupil to prefer the splendid governments of Europe, to the republi can simplicity of our own insiituti >ns. M nv, to their praise be it spoken, break through these tram mels overcome these pernicious influences, ami b<- rcome ardent and true friends of the people ; of this we have honorable instances: our only regret is, that they are few, compared w ith the whole number of gra duates. One great reason why so many lawyers, < clergymen, and others of the h arried profession', are so inimical to the genuine principles of American li berty, is the pernicious influence of our present sys tem of education at‘colleges, which is so well calcu lated to make anti-republicans. In an excellent article in the Westminster Review, attributed to the pen of Lord Brougham, we find some useful hints. The writer says : “ We invent and improve machinery of every des cription, but the machine of mind—the worn-out ma chinery of our ancestors —the fundamental engine, that machi.ie of all mechanics— the education of man is not a jot improved since the days of King Alfred. Education at the present day, if not absolutely perni cious and useless, is, to a great degree purposeless-—it lias the mischievous re'iilt of occupying valuable means to no end. And if it does all this,” says the Reviewer, “ to no useful end, it is injurious, inas. much as it impedes the application of what would be useful. Life ami money, labor and industry, are ex pended in what is iinproduclivc—they might be ex pended in productive acquisition. The machinery of education is antiquated and bad, - nd its product is ..nothing or worse than nothing. We should laugh ati of Union. the man who should till his farm as farms were tilled before the Norman conquest ; yet we mumiaiii both by example and precept, the system which cultivates man’s mind as it was done when man was a tyrant and a slttvc—ignorant, debased. We >eem to ima gine that the whole of all that i- valua l< in education consists in endeavoring to acquire a knowledge oftwo dead languages—Latin ami Greek; or rather as we should say, iii c ndeav oriug to avoid acquiring them, or in forgetting and renouncing them after they are acquired.” “ If education means anything,” we quote again from the Westminster Review, “ it is the process by which tne mind of man, possessed with powers, but iinfurni'hed w ith ideas, is stored with knowledge, and is enabled to apply this to the business of human lite. Tin bnsines' of' Jife is, however, no longer what it w .s in the davs ot Alfred ; but the < ducation is the sa e. Il’, w ithout education—if. io spite of a vicious r <ti t>-< sit in, we have attained that rank w liich c. d » i> m<i. too u.mdi to hope, that undei a s» in ‘ w the jm ail' are cabulated lor the emi . i r tt i emu .i mably behind the point w i h we «h,tlb, a’ -CH. fin i..e tt.iy, tenth.” \\eh tvt no (e ;i m a-s it .. u th t tin’ niost en lightened people -wilt dwn s main ain su. rio>ii O'er those who i<• le.-s informed hat they will ex- cel them, not only in tnvemitm, but in iud"'t y ; that they will resist or conquer them in arm- ; that th v will • xcel tin m in moral order, and, what is not le-s important, w dl form, or reform, a political state better admistered. and, thc'cfiire, more Ire? Imm abuses,and more conducive to the wealth and happiness of the to tal community. // /.y where every man understands his own duties, that he understands the duties of others, and those duties are Lis rights. At this day, every one knows that if he would hope to succeed, he mti't commence his education when he is thought to have quitted it. He must educate him self; and thus doing, he condemns, by his practice, the college system, in which be has been brought up, though he is rarely honest enough to confess his own folly, or that of his parents and ancestors, in maintain ing an almost useless system. The education of those who are really educated, is their own work, not only are all the previous lime and money lost, hut that period of life which ought to have been occupied in acquisition has passed, never to return, never to be compensated bv after industry. The college monopoly has < heated them with the sem blance of teaching, it has taught them what they have not learned, or if they learned, it has taught, they have found, too late, th it it is useless and must be forgotten. It has cheated ihem of their wealth and their time ; it has cheated as far as it could, the stale whi h depends on their acquisitions; it is not an Al ua M.it«r, but a Harpy and a Robber. Twenty times a century the world wonder at a self taught !'• rgii'on, Rittenhouse, Franklin, Watt, and Burns, ■•r aC. antrey. It forgets that all which are taught, are equally self-taught; but the colleges receive the praise, and the individual alone, who know.' wlieiiie his know ledge came, holds peace, and maintains the deception. It may be said, th <t it is no consequence when edu- < ation comes, provided ii comes at all. That may be very true ; but it is no reason wby we should spend money aril time iu lioi being educated, nos-is every one inclined to ex- i t himself in soHtude io this eml ; still less, to commeh'e ih» acquisition, of who he is sensible he ought to have aeipibed in youth la'e in life, when ' e is generally < abed on to act, and Ins no long, r time t • learn. If, as all are agreed, w must apply <at's Ives in y .nth to acquire knowledge, be cause it is difficult io form the necessary habits aiter wards, it is essential that he knowledge to bi' gained shouM be useful knowl. dge. Ii is said that the prac tice oflaboring at G eek <>. Lain, prodm-es its r fleet in giving the general habit of industry in learning, and in cultivating die attention, the memory, the taste, ami w hat not. That is as if the man who is to live by rope-dancing were to labor for the in-trtiction at the anvil. The same labor in modern I ngu ges will confer the knowledge and the liahii both; the me mory, the attention, and the taste, may be cultivated by useful, as well as useless know), dge, and t ins two objects are attained by one effort. He who means to raise cabbages does not sow pine-apples. From the /Xmencun Journal of Medical Science. SEGATO’S METHOD OF PRESERVING DEAD BODIES. Our readers are already acquainted through the let ter of Dr. Brtteii, inserted in the number of this Jour nal, for May, 1838, p. 251, of the discovery ol Sig. S' gato, of a new method of preserving anatomical spe< ime s, the rc'itbs of which are so extraordinary as almost to seem fabulous. In the Lancet for 13th ■d' A cil | ,st. we find an account by Dr. Edward Cha.i >: . nf the specimens preserved in Sig Segato’s < <nn t. i .?mt i'iiis some particulars of so much i t. " ' I' ■ .'<• . i l ' transfer it to .>ti. pages. ■‘O i , i't .; !' .> > m May, 1 B.>B. I i.«i• ■ diaie- I, i miii’i Lir ii. i i>i i . .if' _at<>, i. i .... )(' hav ing died II a; 11 IWO'|. I, bclbr. . it wa.' 'Uh con siderable diaiiidtv ai lif > ii ed peroii' -r "i, t ion Ii the ki.nines- of Prof .-.snr Betti, tn inspect die prepar ations; as they are not now shown !■ ever vi tin . Signor Fumigalli, in w .use house they are ;n pr< -ent preserved, alio.ved me t > liand|v and examine each specimen at my leisure, and most courteously assist. <1 me with all the itiforiiiation in his power. Tee fol lowing is mi cxtr.ici fn in the observ atimis I then com mined to pap. i, May sth, 1838: “It is stat' d m the pamph.et of the Advocate Pel legrini. which I read two yerrs ago 'm Edinburgh,; that the objects prepared by S> gato possessed the ' hardness of stone, with the fb xiiy of the living fibre. I I hey do not, but their general hardness is akin to ■ that of mahogany, (i mean of the preparations of in-j ternal organs,) w hile the integum' nts of the hands, i feet, &,c., feel as if a tight cover of parchment or white j leather, had been drawn over the homy , y et still pret- J ty flexible musvlcs ami tendons. Most of the prepar ations can be indented by the nail, but require consid erable force to be exerted before you can leave anv mark upon them, though any iron instrument would scrati h them as easily as it would rosewood or ma hogany. ‘•The foot of a young woman was the first object shown to me; it was of a dead whiijsh cojor, like that OI) It C<»NSC lEN C 11 Ol' It COUX TR Y 011 R PA R ’l’ Y. MILLEDGEVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY MORNING, JANUARY 28,1840. ol a corpse; and the skin felt as if half tanned, and ad-1 hered very closely to tne subcutaneous tissues. | There was not here the plumpness of life; but it was not much more shrunk than is the foot of a person who! . has died ol lingering disease. The mti'cnlar parts |o| the stirlace of the so t appeared shrunk in p'oportion to the rest of the tissues, though as very ' little fat appeared at the point of amputation, I suspect ! the subject had been an emaciated one. The foot ■ had been severed about an inch above the anclejoint, ! I where little muscular subst nice i< found; but what l! saw was of a light yellow ish brown color, ami had the feeling and consist! nee of horn. The toes of this I foot were inflexible to a very considerable degree. Oftwo hands the color of the skin w«s considerably darker, approaching to a light brown: hut all the'Cn gers were flexible, though somewhat .'tiff'. About the foot I thought I could sfill p» rceive a very faint smell of fat; but the hands were perfi ctly ino.lorons. In the same drawer was rhe head of :s foetus of about I eight months, which was indeed curious, as the pro- ; <•' ss of putrt fecti.'ii, which bail commenced, had been 1 completely ami suddenly airested Here the colors! w re well prest rvt d, the gieeni'h lute of incipient de-| ay. being vtoy ipoata nt, the skin .tearly of the samel oh>r, and the whole firm, nor mieh less plump! than in life. 1 found it very difficult to imprint anv mark with my it .il upon this head; the soft down on the scalp was pr rfe< t. Lt the same drawer was a ! per ion of liver, liaidenul and polidied on one side; I (his did not please me, its color wa* so dark that but for ilte form I could not have recognized it, nor could . I perci ive any traces of acini or vrins. It could be indented by the n il. anti was much lighter than a sim ilar t'ortion of flesh li'er, being little heavier than a ! portion dried by exposure to the air, iltliough it dis-! feted from this, in being little or not a: all diminished in size-. In a fiat piece of wood wer? several inlaid and | oli- hed portions of various organ- and tissues of; the human body. 1 may particulat lv instance two i large round portions of the placenta, w i. rein the red ! blooded vessels running in every di ection in the yel lowish s ■i-r.miiding ti'sue, re embled, /< rv < loseh, I some ofthe varieties of serpentine. In another square | of wood, were inlaid two portions of the kidney, cut! and polished, and beside them were two pieces of fine polished boxwood. The latter I could easily in dent with my nail; the former received no impression whatsoever from all the force I could exert. Perhaps the greatest curiosity was a little table, about a foot and a half square; portions of the hitman body, to the extent of about eighty iliffen nt pieces, are here inlaid ! in small cubes. Nothing can be more beautif.,l than ' the polished shoes of hardened cuticle from the soles j ol the feet; they are extremely hard, yellowish and transparent, like the yellow sulphate <f lime from! Volterra. Portions of the kidneys, t nsils, lungs, &<•. I exhibiting their natural Inn . ami could be instantly recognized by one at all conv.isai t with their struc ture. In a glass case, is the thorax of a young girl of seventeen; the pluinpnes* of the mamma? is here admirably preserved; but though I <io not suspect Segato of any deceit, 1 should have wished to have examined it more closely, >re I would assert that the 1 parietesofthe thorax were perfectly entire. The ap pearance ofthe skin, in this case, tai-ed a suspicion in rny mind, for it exactly resembled white leather, having all the glisteniiig a jipearam e of tanned sheep skin. I speak c.imiously of this specimen as 1 could not hand'e it, and the edges were entirely concealed bv drapery. “By far the mdst satisfactory part of Segato’s pre parations, me the preserved fi'ltes, reptiles and in sects; these lai exceeded my most sanguine expecta tions. Some lizurds and small serpents are hard as hotat, very light and every proportion, and the ir co lor, are perfectly preserved. A lew birds, among I the rest a canary bird ami a chaffinch, have been sub jected to this process. Though hss resembling life | than the birds stuffed by Waterton, or our b-st Lou don preservers, their bodies are pretty plump, ami j perfectly hard and compact; but the moths which abound in the case where they lie, have made sad ha voc w ith their leathers. The canary birds, as vve are told bv Pi II- grini, and as I was also assured by Sig ner I' innigalli, was placed under water for two months during the lifetime of S gato, and at the eml of that period, taken out unchanged. I'he de'troving moth; could not evidently adv im e farther than the feathers; nor could they injure any insects that had been sub ject'd to the preservati >n ftrocess; fir while numer ous other unprepared ones in the? same case had been nearly or totally ruined, tltO'e prepared, though some were of the teiicb re-t description, had escaped ttnitt jnred. Here were also numerous (lissections of frogs, toads and fish. A perpendicular section of a perch was very remai kable, as the colors anil proportions of the parts had been most completely preserved. It appeared to me that this specimen had been vart ish etl, but certainly it had not been painted. A portion of the brain of a chi'd was extremely hard, IHit of a lie lit hair-brow ii color, so tn. w h >t greasy to the touch, ami !>v no tneaiis fl-. e fl animal odour.— Signor F mti alii, sb wed me one ol the fish which he said, 'em completely sa'ieifud through,” and stated ! 1 cvetai of S' goto’s earlier preparations had had ' lu> :,! "'d- ect. 'l'he part' farthest remote from the II j r-nee were cert tiiily. in this instance, nint h s' i'et than the internal ones, though at the same time, tney tiid not appear shrunk.” Such are the results ol mv examination of the-e specimens, and I have copied' them exactly from the notes takrn on the day of the visit. I hope I have shown that the accounts, of some previous writers, though exaggerated, were by no means altogether unworthy of credit. From a personal friend of'Se g.*to, | ii reived a tew particulars coiieeniing him, winch may not be without interest lo some of the rea ders of the Lancet. “Segato vvas, imfortunatrly, obnoxious to the gov ernment ol J'uscany, on account of his ext erne libera) ll ''' <>'te occasion, presented a petition to the Grand Duke to he allowed tn pteserve the en tire body of a child of 11 or 12 years of age, and prated that -It.mid any such die‘in the hospital un claimed it might be given over to him. The petition was referred by the Grand Duke, who really admired but dared not openly favor him, lo committee, and here the malice of bis enemies prevailed, and the humble request was denied. Ton poor to purchase, even in Florence, where the body costs but a fcw i francs, Segato was objiged to content himself with wh.it his friends could supply,and never able to make trial of Ids process on a grand scale. But this would hi ve done justice to his merits, had not, through his childish selfishness or timidity, his secret gone with him to the grave. So fearful was he lest it might be discovered, that he never would commit the slightest hint to paper, though repeatedly entreated to do so by his friends. I hey earnestly begged him at least, to leave it in his will, which would remain sealed till . after bis death; but, with a childish obs'inaev, he con i stantly refused. On his deathbed, Mr. Sloane, mv informant, and others of his friends renewed their so licitations, and nt length, convinced that he could not survive, he pointed the next morning to reveal to them his process. The morning came, they repaired to his Ito'i'C Segato was speechless, and died in the < curse of the day. His collections have been care fully pre'erved; anil a- a c‘:;!><>' si on has been named ! by the government to treat for the purchase of them, it is to be hoped that ere long they will be freely ; opened to scientific investigation and analysis, by which alone we can hope to obtain a hint ofthe mode of preserving objects so perishable. But should this | inethod be entirely lost, I trust that this-account of the specimens preserved by it will prove that it is a misfortune to be deeply regretted by the scientific I world. From the N. Y. Sunday Morning News. AUTHENTIC OCCURRENCE OFTHE RE VOLUTION. Andre and Arnold. —Some days since, while in the company cd Samuel Cassidy, E-q., of Jersey City, lie related to mv the following anecdote connected with General Washington.—As every record of our i evolution is eagerly treasured, and especially re specting Arnold’s treason, and this may be sore-lied on, we request'd Mr. Cas-iday to give it to us in such ashape a> to present intrinsic evidence that it could be relied on—which would be best perfected by his permitting the relation to emanate from himself, with his name attached. To this publicity it is but justice to him to remark, that he strongly oiijected, but was petsuaded by our earnest entreaties. Io the Editor of the Sunday Morning News: Dear Sir—ln compli cnee with your request, I com mit to paper some details given me a few years ago, by the late Governor Ogden, of New Jersev, in re gard to an offer made by General Wa-hington to Sir Henry Clinton, to give up Andre if the American could capture Arnold. I well recollect hearing mv say it was generally believed in the American j army, that such an offer had been made. On men tioning this to Governor Ogden, he immediately said that he had reason to believe th it the offer, if am ; tlu re was, was made through him. I requested him tn tell me the particulars, which he did as near as I can recollect, as follows: “The American army lay at ’West Point, in the State of New York, and tile British were in possession of New York, at the time ofthe capture of Andre. I received an order to repair the next morning, at eight o clock, at General Washington’s head quarters, with twenty-five horses, the finest that I could select. 1 repaired thither at the hour appointed. Gen. Wash ington handed me a letter for Str Henry Clinton, with dir. ciions that, before I left tie camp for New York, I should call and see the Marquis de Lafayette. —The letter of General Washington was probably on some snhjec t not connected with the real object of my journey. 1 went to the Marquis’s quatters, and he said to me, ‘ You must set off at such a time of day as will ol necessity make it near night when you get to Powel’s Hook, when the commanding officer will no cloubly invite yon to stay all night, and you must in sist on delivering that letter to the commanding officer there. You must tell him privatelv, that if we lean capture Arnold, Andre will be reprieved, and | that you have high antliority for saying so.’ “ I left the camp with my twenty-five horses, and reached the foot of the Bergen hill about sun down. 1 iwre was a strong force drawn across the causeway, and we halted. I stated that I had a letter for Sir , Henry Clinton from General Washington, and that my orders were to deliver it into the hands of the ; commanding officer at Powel’s Hook, and to no one else. We weie immediately admitted, our horses ; taken care of, and in the evening, after delivering the? letti r, I was invited to a supperwillt the officers there. I was seated on the right ol the commanding officer, j and some time elapsed before I h id an opportunity of delivering the message from the Marquis. I .'aid to him, ‘ I am authorized to say, that, if the Americans can capture Arnold, Andre will be reprieved !' He seemed thunderstruck, and immediately answered, 'That must be immediately attended to. I will go and see Sir Henry Clinton. Do you sir still, and let it appear as if I have only gone out for a moment, on some ordinary matter of business.’ He was gone about two hours, and returned and took his scat. As soon as I e had an opportunity to speak to me pri vately, he said, 1 Sir Henry Clinton says, a deserter was never given up.’ ” This statement is as exact as I can repeat it from memory , it having been made to me by Governor Ogden from eight to ten years ago. I commit this to writing at your particular request, as you thought that the circumstances ought not to be lost, and that they should appear in an authentic shape. While Governor Ogden was living, I thought it was his sole province to do as l e pleased in relation to this revo lutionary reminiscence; but as lie is no more, I see •to impropriety in which lam now doing. You will bear me witness, Mr. Editor, that I wished you to publish the narrative without my name to it, and that my subscribing my name at all, is because you urged me to do so. I am, very respectfully, vonr obedient servant, SAMUEL CASSIDY. GRAVE AMUSEMENT.—The following in troduction to a piece of poetry in a late pi riodical, is quite novel to us: “The following lines were writ ten more than sixty years ago, by one who has for many years slept in his grave, merely for his own amusement.” Don’t order a new pair of boots until you have put last patch on the rtM tinges. 1 P. l>. ISOEJ.VSo.V, Proprietor. WHOLE NUMBER 313. THREE BAD HABITS. There are three weaknesses in our habits, winch are very common, and which have a very prejudicial influence on our welfare. The first is giving wav to. the ease or indulgence of the moment, instead of do ing at once what ought to be done. This practice almost always diminishes the beneficial effect/ of our actions, and often leads’us to ab-tain from action al together; as, for instant e, if at this season ofthe year there is a gleam of sunshine, of which we feel we ought to take advantage, but have not the resolution to h ave at the moment a comfortable seat, or an at-, tractive Occupation, wr miss the most favorable oppor tunity, and, perhaps, justify oui-selve# iu remaining in doors, on the ground that the time for exercise is past. One evil attendant upon the habit of procras. filiation is, that it produces a certain dissatisfaction of the Himd, which impedes and deranges the animal functions, and tends lo prevent the attainment of a high state of health. A perception of what is right followed by a promptness of execution, would render the way ot life perfectly sm’coth. Children should lie taught to do nothing but what is reasonable, but they should be taught to do what they are told at once. Ihe habit will stand them in stead all their lives. I he second weakness is when we have made a good resolution, and have partially failed in executing it we are very apt to abandon it altogether. For in stance, it a person who has been accustomed to rise at ten, resolves to rise at six, and, after a few successful attempts, happens to sleep til! seven, there is great danger that lie will relapse into hi,- former ha bit, or probably go beyond it, and lie till noon. It i s the same with resolutions as to ewmoroy, or temper ance, or any thing eke ; if we cannot do all w e intend or make one slip, we are apt to give up entirely. Now what we should aim at is, always to do the best we can, under existing circumstances; and then our progress, with the exception of slight interruptions, would be continual. The third and last weakness to which 1 allude, is the practice of eating and drink ing things because they are on the table, and especi ally when they are to be paid for. How seldom it happens that two men leave a few glasses of wine in a decanter at a coffee house, though they have both had enough ! and the consequence of not doing so is frequently to order a fresh supply ; fait at any rate, ■ven the first small excess is pernicious. Excess however slight, either in solids or liquids, deranges the power of digestion, ami, of course, diminishes the lull benefit of any meal. It often induc es an indispo si.ion to more, and so one excess leads to another. W hat is called a second appetite is generated ; and the proper bounds being once passed, it is not easy to fix anotlier limit. The importance in a man’s life of stopping at enough is quite incalculable ; mid to be guilty of excess for the reason I have just mentioned, though very common, is the height of folly. A very small quantity will cause the diflerence between spending the remainder of the day profitably or agreeably, and in indolence and dissipation.—T/ie Original. A FISH STORY.—On a passage some time 'tnce to Jamaica with troo r s onboard, a lad, v lip was a lifer, silting on the gunwale by a sudden roll of •he ship, fell overboard, and was directly swallowed by a shark. A hook was immediately baited with a niece of beef, and thrown over the stern, which was seized by the shark, and the fish was presently It tiled on board. On opening the belly, the boy was found itugly seated between two ribs, unconcerned, plating a tune on his fife ! We wonder if the whale‘that 'wallowed Jonah of old could swallow this fisfi 'tory! SA MPATHA . —Joy and sorrow are the beautiful forms ofsympathy, in which she appears as a gracious uigel treading the sorrowfid earth, with feet ol healing and eyes of liuht. Joy and sorrow make up the lot of our mortal estate, and brotherhood with our species. But we do more; for by the fiirce of this principle, those on whom the happier lot of humanity has fallen communicate the bounty that has been showered on their head, and the wretched is not left alone with the burthen of his misery. The strength that is untaskc d lends itself to divide the load with which another is bowed,and the calamity that lies on the heads of men is lightened, while tnose who are not called to bear are yet willing to involve themselves in the sorrow of a brother. There are, indeed, states of mind in which we dare not look even on its smiling countenance—that glad light affording so strong a contrast to the darkness of our own spirits. When we leave the chamber iu which lie the cold remains of one in life tenderly be loved, we start back in anguish from the cheerfufsun shine and the sky so serenely and happily beautiful. And so it often is, in the common intercourse of life, without such deep cause of sorrow, perhaps, we are sometimes assailed with the expression of a joy which lias no place in our hearts. But this proves how dear is happiness to the human heart. And it is wonder ful even to the suferer himself, to feel how his soul that at first sullenly repelled the light gladness, soon ad mits unconsciously into all its depths,.and is beguiled into a blessed forgetfulness of trouble. * I here are a thousand other cures which nature gra ciously provides for grief, but we speak now of that contagion of happiness that is breathed from the gen tle voice, the sparkling eye, anti the kindling smile j and which so touches the breast with a cheerful sym pathy, that the wretch almost upbraids himself for his inward gladness, as il false to the sorrow which he thinks he ought-to have cherished more sacredly with in his miserable heart. PROGRESS OF INTELLECT.—A fellow who was considered “rather soft” speaking the other day of the many inventions and improvements which have been made by the present generation, exullifigly wound up with, “Well, for his part, he be lieved every generation grow’d wiser and wiser, for there’s my fa ther he know’ll inorc’n my grandfather did !” “My dear sir,” said old major P., in his blunt, emphatic manner, “what a d d fool your great grand fa- ther must have been!”— Skowhegan Sentinel. A patc h on the elbow, poor Richard said—and he knew something—is better than a dun as tin* clbc|w. lAvn't UiscVci 'an old garment for a new fistfiion.