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TOIL* r:ii: geobgm tssrsiois. 1* PUBLISHED EVERT TUESDAY, [» v 3. 4«;i il»er Jt .1. la tint!. (Elitors and Proprietors,) At riIUBK DODLYRS a vear, if paid i:t advance, or FOUR DOLLARS, if not paid until the end of the year. Advertisements will bs conspicuously inserted ii.One Hollar per square, (15 lines or lass.) the first, and '<o cents for each sub sequent ins'*rtien. Ail a ivert:-v;;i-uts han ’-and. iti for publi c it: ui ;tlioJ* h nitation, wdl be published t. 1 forbid, ii 1 charged accordingly. Saie> of Laud aid Nf rms by I'xecu- I t ,ts. A i uinistrsitor-s an 1 Guunhats, are re- : h'V .l»t iv Gazette, sixty days ..ei.uu- lac uaj oi j tale. l ii- sale of Personal property must be p, - r ise' l in liAp in inner forty days. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an estate oust be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the ('ourt of Ordinary for leave to sell Land and Negroes, must be published weekly lor : four months. .■=» ah Letters on business must L* post paid to insure attention. JOB PRINTiMi. <f iON NEC fill) with the office <:f the .Ml ft it* >il. is a splendid assortment of . 13 L/iS if And \vc arc enabled to excute all kind ol Job work, m t)ie neatest manner and at the short notice. ’?> * A ’if f A nf every dt* <:n t )liou will i mAVii.’Av »e kept Uii Laii t. sueli im Auacli.neots, J ii-iictts’ F.xecution#, do .‘summons, Jmy do Snh'-csnns . * Kec >gui/.incc, Seii-ri Facia... A ;-,ce Bauds, * a. s.i. Declui -t on—Debt, l l,v| i ,i ■.snini'S!'. jsbrr'fi Deeds, C..;' ■••• or Executions. Blank Vc ~ Tew Ci* •aiat’isi'id So’D'C. __ . i 2 1111: tubscrdieis have as :• . Tt f «»:e ; ..>it'd .1: tv-’ »u * to ther as COMMISSION A • HANTS, u lei the t- -i’c and c t ■ t JOUS t'.D. PFVT,’> Ip* Cos. They h-iv ...'chased the emnmmlious A'... vß'ivll '' ■, and CL'.'SK STORE, 1 t -tyoccir • ’ lo ii ran. Liivrure ,'c <h \ *:,*'•»e the, .i r. coive CO ii ON or < f >DS itivr* idadvanceotdvupon cot t , u their .-- •.- '.ion and undei th*dr con t . Tc a ill be as cu rntnary. j ts ■ • !>• i> • . i t:c conduced by Jot. : it-:. \\ at the p ulollagc l/t thv I • -: 1 1 to five Columbus i ,ino. n. vt r r>. M. J. LAiatKNCE. : » ts V >’ -Cj’dv.Fß Alii) COMMISSION ml ;:aiAxr, Si. Joseph L'fia. I>N \ GOODS. I , VIA subser. ■ r having recently replcn &. i- Hi- -;;i r ,:k, invites his custom « - -a . in- public L f ';u r.ailv, to call and cx > an ; ,es. Lis goods are tide : . . i-i!> , tail and he is .ft.-ring them on a: g-. id terms as any in the ltiail.ei. ILs fctuck consists in j art of the f-llouhig: Woolens, Snttinetts, A variety of liroad Cioll- , < hreassians. Merinos, llombazines and I’ombar.cttes, IU and and White Flamad, A good a.-'.sortineiit ot A large supply ot t>* KJ lIS and ibiiCillS, OEa T K >IE N S AN 1> I, \ DIES SADDLES, BRIDLES AMD MARTINCAL3. Crockery, Hardware and ( Cillery, With a variety of other articles suitable to the season, which he takes great ph asurc ia otfering to his customers and the pub lic, at iiis uew store on the North side Cen tre stre t. Jan 1J 40 THO: GARDNER. NEW STORE. f gHIK undersigned having associated S themselves under the name and style ot Harvey **C Chastain, offer lor sale anew and well selected Stock of Goods, Wares, and Merchandize, from Charleston, viz. Eroad Cloth, Sattinetts, Mmernctts, Merino, Silk Lustring and Mattronas, French Muslin, do Ginghams, do Prints, Scotch Ginghams, Anew assorted Stock of English and A merican Prints. Furniture prints. Bonnets, Hats, Shoes, of all kinds, Brid es, Saddles a nd Maitiugales. Besides a variety ot oth er articles too tedious to mention. Which w ill be Sold low for cash or undoubted cre ditors. The pnhli* are requested to call and ex amine for thamselves. JOHN P. HARVEY. MORGAN CHASTAIN. March 2«, THE SUBSCRIBERS have just re ceived a select lot of GROCERIES, which they offer on reasonable terms for Cash. ROOD &TALMAN. Dec 15 37 ts THE MIRROR. PROSPECTUS OF THE SOUTHERN LITEnAnY MESSENGER. is a monthly .Magazine, devoted J- chietiy to Literature, but occasion ally room ul>o tor articles ti t all wiinin tile scope ot Science ; and nut pio essmg an entire o.sd.u.i o tasteful selections, though its matter kas been, a it will con tinue to be, iu the main, original. Party i otitics, ani controversial J’heol i‘gy, a- lar as possible, are jealously exclu *•* 'l. ’i hey nc soiuea.ues so blended with ibscusstons in iituature or in moral sci ence, otiicrv.-i.se unobjectionable, as to gain admittance lor the sake of til more valu able matter to Inch they adhere: bu' whenever that happens they are incidental, only, not primary. They are dross, tolera ted oi.lv became it cauuol well be severed trom the slerimg ore wherewith it is incor porated. Reviews :ud Critical Notices, occu py their due space in the work: audit is the Editor's aim that they should have a three fold tendency —to convey, iu a condensed form, such valuable truths or interesting in cidents as are embodied in the works re viewed, —to direct the readers attention to books that deserve to be read—and to warn him again :t wasting time and money upon that large number, which merit only to be burned, in this age of publications that by their variety and multitude, distract and o verw’..elitin every uadiseriminating student, impartial criticism, governed by the views just mentioned, is one of the most inesti mable and iudLj disable ofauxiliaries to him who docs iclsh to discriminate. Essays and '1 ales, having in view utility or amusement, or both; Historical sket ches —ami Kemimsemces of events too min ute for History, yet elucidating it, and heiglituing its interest—may be regarded as forming th« staple of th<- work. And of indigenous Poetry, enough is publish ed—sometimes of no mean strain—to man ifest and to cult.vate the grow ing poetical ta.sm and t. louts of our country. T he times appear, for several reasons, to demand stn-h a work—and not one alone, bu* manyt 'The public mind is feverish and irritated still, from recent political strifes : The soft, assnasive influence ot Lit (ir.iture is needed, to allay that fever, and soottie that irritation. Vice and folly are rioting abroad: -They should be driven by indignant rebuse, or lashed by ridicule, in to ttieii jittii ; haunts. Ignorance lords it over an immense proportion of our peo pie;—Every sp iur should be set in motion, to arouse trie, enlightened, and to increase timir number; so that the great enemy of popular iroverninent may no longer brood, like a portentous cloud, over the destinies of our country. \nd to accomplish all •;tese ends, what more powerful agent can be employed, than a periodical on the plan of the Messenger; if that plan bo but car ried out in practice? The Soui i peculiarly requires such an agent. Inal! the Union, south of Washing ton, there ar< but two Literary periodicals! Northward of that city, there are probably at least twenty-live oi thirty! Is this con nast justified by the wealth, the leisure, :Te native talent, or the actual literary taste of the Sou,horn people, compared with those of the Northern ? No: for in wealth, U er.is and taste, we may justly claim, at !<•«•:, a equ.iiitri with our brethren md a dome'.tic in-i notion exclusively onr own beyond all doubt, a fords us, if we choose, twice tiic leisure for reading and writing which they enjoy. It was from a deep sense of this local want thin the word Southern was engrafted on this periodical: and not with any design to nourish loca prejudices, or to advocate sup posed local hue ests. Far from any such thought, it is the Editor’s fervent wish, to sec the North and Soutl bound endearing ly together, forever, in the silke bands of mutual kiiidne c s and affection. Fai from meditating ho.-riUti/ to the north, he has ai- i ready drawn, and he hopes hereafter to draw much of hF choicest matter thence; and ha’ - isider-d will he deem himself, should his pages, b-. making each region know the other better contribute in any es sentia! degree to dispel the lowering clouds that now threaten the peace of boih. v. .to brighten and strengthen the sacred ti. of (I -to a it love. The Southern Literary Messenger has now In en in existence tour years --the pre sent No commencing the fifth volume. How far it has acted out the ideas here ut tered, is not for the Editor to say ; he be lieves, however, that it falls not further short of them, than human weakness usually makes Practice fall short ol Theory. CONDITIONS. 1. The Southern Literary Messenger is published in monthly numbers, of 64 large su ip royal octavo pages each, on the best of paper, an- neatly Covered, at $5 a year — payable in advance. 2. ()r five new subscribers, by sending then names and S2O at one time to the edi tor, will receive their copies for one year, for that sum. or at $4 for each. 3. The risk of loss of payments for sub scriptions, which have been properly com mitted to th. mail, or to the hands of a post master, is assumed by the editor 4. If a subscription is not directed to be discontinued before the first number of the next volume has been published, it will be taken as a continuance for another year. Subscriptions must commence with the be ginning of the volume, and will not be ta ken for less than a year's publication. 5. The mutual obligations of the publish er and subscriber, for the year, are fully in curred as soon as the first number of the volume is issued : and after that time, no discontinuance of a subscription will be permitted. Nor will a subscription be dis continued for any earlier notice, while any thing thereon remains due, unless at the option of the Editor. notice: ii. i siMfi!'* /"I AME to the subscribers Imrali; vV lot, about the first of last i llliißlfS' fall, a white and speckled heif i er, about three years old, with | a swallow fork in the left, and nn over and under square in the right ear. The owner is requested to come forward, prove property and take her away. M 7 6 4 3t HU LIP THOMAS. »’AO3S3E»Oa* SiU SEAT 14.13 M% From the JSew York Mirror. The Tlaii w ho was oo bV THEODORE S. FAT. CHAPTER V. A ew mornings alter lie had arrived at New York, Iroui Charleston, i called ou iioseberg. lie had been seven times, to sec me, and by chance always rm.-sed me. ■Mr. Rose berg m?’ »aid 1 to the ser vant. • Y es, sir.* •Can 1 see him?* •Y es, sir.’ •I'll walk to his room.* •I’ll show you, sir ’ T know the door.’ ‘Mr. Roseberg is not in his own room, sir. I’ll show you. This way, sir,’ said the mail, with a grin. He led me up stairs—along an intermina ble corrider—up another pair of stairs, into i dark, dirty passage; and then up auother pair of stairs. •1 asked for Mr. Roseberg's' said 1, more distinctly, thiukiug the fellow had mistaken the uaiiie. ‘All right, sir. That's Mr. Roseborg's room, sir.’ 1* knocked and wr* admitted. “Why, Roxrbirg? •Yes. Here 1 am. How do ye do?’ •How are you ?’ What the deuse are you doing up here ?’ ‘Oh, nothing, nothing. I’m very com fortable, indeed. There is something charm ing about a garret-room. I'm lifted up almve the noise, dust and bad air. Y'ou're so retired.’ •Retired enough,’ said I. ‘Then you are more independent in every way. 1 really prefer a garret room.’ •But how came you to try the experi ment ?’ said I. •Oh,’ said he, blushing and stammering a little, ‘you see, the fact is, Mrs Bounce is f 11. That is, 1 mean Mrs. Bounce's board ing-house.’ •Full!’ •Quite full. The poor woman is making a little money at last. She offered me uiy room on my return very generously, but 1 told her no ; to put me anywhere.’ •Os course you could not expect her to keep your room for you while you were in Charleston, unless you paid your board during your absence, which you would hardly do.’ ‘Oh, yes. I paid for the rooms during mv absence. They are uncommonly nice rooms. So I told her to let my board-bill run just as if 1 had been here all the while.’ •You did V Y es, but on my return she appealed to my feeligs. She lias a large family, you see, so 1 would not stand higgling about a few paliry dollars.’ •May 1 take the liberty of asking whether you pay the same sum for this little garret room that you did lor the apartments down stairs !* •Oh, certainly. I pay the same.’ •You are, unquestionably,’ said I, ‘a gen erous-hearted lellow, my dear Roseberg, but what’s the matter with your coat!’ •Torn all to pieces. The cloth is not worth a farthing. It’s that tailor whom 1 recount ended toyau o ton. y; *nd ■ inee I did recommend him, by the way, 1 seize mis opportunity of unsaying my recomendation. Fie is a good-for-nothing fellow, aid noth ing can he mo-e worthless than liimselt— except his tilths. The cloth is evidently some old damaged stuff which he has bought ohm p and sponged up to give it the appear ance of new, and he is, at the same time, in addition to his other demerits, uuci*i' and dishonest,* •Y'ou surprise me,’ said I. ‘lt is the fact, notwithstanding His bill h s otne in tw ce as iar e as it ought to have been, all lie -.wore it 1 dido t pay he and sue me directly.’ ‘And did you pay ?* ‘Unquestionably. It was. after all but a few dollars ; but I shall withdraw my cus tom. Whatever my tailor himsclt may be, 1 expeci at least that his clothes shall be worth something ’ *W hv ’ said l, -the clothes he has made me are xc -llont. He is civility itself. Hi* bill wa< 'no large, now I remember, and he began ’ > press it, but 1 told him if he per sisted n his demand, he might sue as soon as he pleased. 1 would defend the suit and exp s ■ his practices in a court ot justice.’ •And did you not have difficulty with hm?' • Not the least. He struck down the bill according to my directions, and that's the last I've heard of him. Os his clothes, how-eve-, 1 must say, I really never saw bet ter.’ •It’s verv mysterious!’ said Rjseberg. One day Roseberg came to me iu a fit of the blue devils. ‘What’s the matter now?’ said I. •I’m tired of life ?’ said he. •Nonsense! ridiculous!’ said I. • lam, indeed !’said he, and there were tears in his eves. •What’s the matter?’ •1 am disgusted with human nature!’ ‘Pooh.’ •I wish 1 had never been born ! ‘Capital!’ said I. ‘You are hipped.— What has happened ?’ •Why, in the first place, 1 do not know a single person except yourself lor whom 1 tcel a real friendship.’ •Very complimentary,’ said I. bowing. •No; jesting apart. Ererv body to me seetns cold, selfish, hollow-hearted and hy pocritical. All are struggling, eternally, and exclusively, after their own paltry, grovelling, mean, bare, ’ ‘Hoilo!’ interrupted I, ‘pull up awhile. What’s all this ?’ , •After their own contemptible interest? said he, with profound melancholy and dis gust. ‘Well, what’s giore natural ?’ said I, ‘than that every one should take care of number one? If they don’t, who will ?’ Roseberg sighed. ‘I love every one, no one loves me" said he. ‘I respect every one, no one respects m*. I feel a thousand faint flights and in definite unkindness. 1 hate the world I hate mankind. lam weary of my existence. A mostsingular gloom has lately descended upon my mind.’ 'You've been eating something thatdoD’t agree with you,’ said f. Roseberg sighed again. •Wh» was that you danced with, four times last night, at B ■ 's !* asked I. Roseberg sighed more deeply than before, but this .sigh was accompanied by a blush • Julia Savigue,’ said he. •She’s a pretty little creature,’ said I, carelessly. He was silent. •It's a uity she has such a foolish-looking nose,' added I. •Y’ou are a monster,* said he, smiling. •Y'ou kuow that a more lault'ess counten ance uever appeared upon earth. Is she not perfectly beautilul?' ‘Y’es, candidly,' said I. ‘I only jested, to see how deep you were.’ ‘Well, there,* said Roseberg, ‘you have guessed it. I love her.' •Have you conveyd that interesting dis covery to her V asked I. , •Oh, in a thousand ways !’ •But how V ‘Oh,’ flowers, rosebuds, veises, valentines, ribands, gloves, gifts, locks of hair, min iatures, sighs. glances, pressures—’ •Here, hollo !’ said I. ‘I can’t stay here all day. Wheel about, if you please ?’ * Y ou are a monster! as I said,’ repeated he. •And have you kindled a mutual flame ?’ asked I. ‘Does Cupidon smile? or is lie mischievous? Ilow is the fat father dis posed? and the yet fatter mother? and their four fat. burly-iooking brothers? and three old aunts? and the uncle Isaac? and ’ •Charles, spare me,’ said Roseberg.’ ‘I do believe she is not insensible ■ to ’ •To your merits,’ interrupted I. ‘And, yet ■■ ' ‘Ah, there it is.’ ‘I can’t bring her to her bearings.’ ‘Poor fellow!’ said I. stroking down his hair. ‘She is so gay—so sportive. I never saw her serious a minute. She teazes. and laughs at me. And, really, I begin to think her a regular little coquette.’ * Y’our reasons.’ *lu the first place, from a peculiar look she cast, last night, on young Mr. K •What! looked at another man? Oh, the traitress!!’ •My dear Charles, lam very serious. I am very miserable. 1 am, upou my honour. What is the reason?’ ‘I cannot think,’ said I. ‘There must be some reason. lam not miserable. I have a great many friends : people respect me, and love me. I have no difficulty with human nature, or with my tailors. It’s a very good world, as far 1 see. ‘Do you know, Charles, I have lately been tormented with a really unpleasant reflec tion !’ •What is it ?’ •Apprelieusion that I am a poor, goo*i-for no.hing, worthless felow.’ •Quite a pleasant discovery,’ said I. •At my age, Bonaparte had conquered Italy.’ ‘Yes, but you are not Bonaparte; and it you were, your thirst for conquest could not be gratified here Those days are past.’ ‘At my age. Raphael had painted nearly all his works.’ ‘True, but that is not a satisfactory reason why you should cut your throat.’ ‘I see,’said he, ‘you do not sympathize with me.' ‘How can I?’said 1. ‘N ®u are one of the cleverest men of the day. Y’ou have every thing on earth that human being can de sire. Y ou ig, rich educated—acknovvle ge ! talents, irreproachable character—good health ' ‘Granted,’ said he, ‘that all this are true, yet I am wretched. Ido not enjoy life. 1 have no tricuds, no reputation. I am nothing; a nonentity..' ‘lt s very pleasant,' said I, certainly.’ •It’s a fact,’ said he. *1 believe Julia, and her family, would have no objection to me, but they consider me rather a noodle—— ’ •Highly agreeable!’ saitl 1, laughing heartily. *1 perefeive it, I am sure,’ said he. ‘Well, you have, unquestionably, the most delightlui talent for making discover ies !' said 1 ‘lt seems to me, that they have more res pect for everybody than they have for me,’ said he. •I'll think of v ur case,’ said I. •Do,’ said 6e. •Wh tis it.’ said I to old Mrs. Savigne, the next night, ‘ ibout these two young folks? Mv friend Roseberg is a little-- —a little ey! isn t lie ?’ •Y’es;’ said the old lady, emdiDg. ‘I fear so.’ •Well, how is it ? all right 7 Stream runs smooth hearts, and dart3, and all that! hey ?’ • Why. I really don’t know,’ said the old lady. ‘Mr. Rosebera is a remarkably fine young man; v Miarkably good family, good circumstances, moral, agreea ble, handsome, affectionate, e'ever, and ail that; but he’s a sort of he's so very; as one might say— -he's too——too——too ‘lt is certainly very mysterious!’ thought I. CHAPTER VI. I went evening to make a call on the family of Mr. Q. Excellent people and old acquaintances of mine. Q. himself is a blunt, taciturn, elderly gentleman wbosiis in a corner reading, while Mrs. Q. and the young Misses Q. and Masters Robert and Frederick Q, do the talking. The con versation happened to turn upon my liieud Ro-eberg. •A remarkably interesting young man.’ observed Mrs. Q. •Y’ery handsome,’ said Miss Helen. Very handsome, indeed,* echoed Miss Julia. ‘1 should like to know lnm of all things,’ said Miss Marian. •Can’t you bring him some evening?’ in quired Master Robert. •Certainly.’ •We shall be very much obliged,’ said Mrs. Q. •He writes such passionate poetry,’ said M iss Julia. •Does he like musick ?’ inquired Miss Marian, timidly. I took Roseberg to the Q’s. He spent on* evening there. I was also of the company. I don’t know what it was. They lost all res pect for him. They ceased to inquire wha he liked. Even his passionate poetry los, its power over the heart of Miss Julia Q. Wherever R. weut it was the same. In company he w.is overlooked. Gentlemeu passed him with scarcely a recognition.— Ladies saw him come and go w ith entire io ditt'ereuce. Other people were looked for and talked about, and their wishes attend to, but Rosebeg was a nonenity. I happeued to be sitting in his room one day, ami a bookseller's boy came iu with a bill. •Walk in, my nics little lad,’ said Rose berg, politely. The boy walked in. ‘Take a chair, my son,’ He obeyed. ‘l've paid this bill,’ said Roseberg. ‘No, sir,’said the boy, firmly. ‘lain almost sure I have.’ ‘I am quite sure you have not,’ said the boy. ‘lt seems to me— ’ ‘Ob, I am quite sure,’ said the boy. •If you are positive' —said Roseberg. ‘Perfectly positive,' said the boy. ‘Then I'll pay it,’ said Roseberg. lam sure you would not say it was not p>id with out being satisfied that it was not, and you must know better than 1. Therefore—’ •Quite positive,’ reiterated the boy. Roseberg paid the bill. The boy took his leave. The next day the nice little lel low was advertised by his master as having absconded, having commuted certain lrauds upon the customers, etc. One summer day tny friend and I stepped on board a steamboat for West Point. This spot is acceded to have been rendered the most lovely on earth by tiie aid of n.iiure anil Mr. Cozzens. Ou arriving we were fortunate in securing the last rooms. As usual there was a lady left uuprovided far; ami as usual Roseberg sent a polite message offering to surrender his to the fair traveller. The of fer was bluntly refused. The lady lodged in a neighbouring farm house. The next morning ou the parade-greutid there was a family group of cross-looking persons, whose eyes were ofteu fixed upon Rosebery. The yoUag lady was pretty, and Roseberg. on learning her tiam*, begged from a mu tual friend the favour of an introduction 1 had done the same. I was welcomed wirii affability ; but when the name of Roseberg was mentioned, the father scowled and de elined the honour. I did not understand him, and asked his reasons. ‘Well, I can hardly tell,’ said the old gentleman; ‘I don’t like him. There is something is his mnuuer. Sometime ago my daughter was taken ill in the street, and he excited a good deal of talk by abandoning his place iu an omnibus to her. It was very polite certainly, but, once or twice since, has offered similar attentions. Last night he sent her a message, Legging her to use his room. We think it very extraordinary. It looks like design, lie’s a little too --- too--’ The last word was drowned by the break fast bell, which ju»t then « wiled th*- nttuu • - <1 groups back to the hotel. As mounted the steps, half a dozen strange gentlemen had lingered behind to finish their conversation. Last of ali was Roseberg. ‘After you, sir,' said he to one of them, ‘By no means,’ said the gentleman. ‘Certainly, walk up; you will l ise youl -at the ta'ile, which is very crowded, said Roseberg. •But you —’ ‘Oh, never mind me.’ •But I insist,’ said the gentleman.’ •No; ,'fteryou.’ ‘But you will lose cour breakfast.’ ‘No matter, 1 can wait.’ •But—’ •No resistance, I beg.’ ‘Well, if you insist." said the gentleman. ‘lf you insist!’ said another. ‘Certainly, if the genuemm insists!' said the other five. They all advanced into the lons break fast-room. The table wis nearly lull, i In strangers occupied th la t remaining places. •You have uo placr, s.r,’ said a waiter to Roseberg. •I can easily wait.’ replied the tatter. ‘Who is that fellow .’’ inquired cue of the seven gentlemen. ‘Dont kuow, ’pon honour,’ said one. •\Ve should have lost our breakfast, one of us, if it had not been for him.’ ‘Poor follow !’ said another, ‘he has lost his own.’ •Well, wnere’s the harm ?’ rejoined anoth er; ‘he’s not hungry; he cau wait.’ •Who is he ?’ inquired the first. ‘He’s a Mr Frostbrrg, ot Now York.’ ‘Egad ! lie’s as good as an avant courier,' said the other—aud there w;:s a general smile. 1 had buttered myself a warm biscuit, and having put a piece of sausage into my mouth, was in the act of sending the bis cuit after it, when, as it by inspiration, like a flash of lighting the whole secret of Roseberg’s want of respectability burst upon me. Y ears of his past lile ; ol the obser vations which I made upon it; ol the re marks I had heard other people make; passed in review before trie ; and I felt as much elated as if l had discovered the lon gitude of the north pole, or perpetual mo tion. With otic word 1 could rescue this generous and noble person lroin a false p<> sition. With one word 1 could cover him with respectabil'ty and honour. There he stood,;by the window,among the domesticks, waiting till some mouth, more rapid than, the rest, should cede him a place at table. 1 myself was not in a situation yet to cede him mine. The bread was good; the but ter fresh and sweet; the sausage had a gout which sausage never had b<»!o>e ; and 1 wa-, moreover, exceeding!* hungry, and there fore finished my own breakfast delibetately •and at my ease, as all meals sjiouhi betaken. When I had done, I perceived that Rose berg, had at last succeeded in sliding into a vacated seat, and wassitting.unwaited upon, having begged the waiter to ‘atteud to the gentleman opposite, first.’ Poor Roseberg ! The period nf his pro bation had been long and bitter. It had nearly ruined him, but it was near its end. He was yet a young man; he might repair Ltis fault; and he had enough mind , I was certaiD, to seize my view of his situation, in its widest extent, the moment it was pre sented to him. 1 rose and went out upon the piazza, where I was soen followed by nearly all the company. By-and-by, a suspicious,lookin'* fellow, whom l took to be a blackleg- came out. IT'S smiling and I heard Roseberg's voice ia the blandest tone saying ; •By no means; after you.’ When every one ol the company were out upon the piazza, lastly came Roseberg.scra ping and bowiug to every body tUat loosed at in in. ■Roseberg,' said I. •I beg your paruou a thousand times,* said, he, ruuniiig toward me so hastily, that he nearly stumbled over a chair. •Roseberg,' repeated 1, einpaati<*ally. •1 am entirely at your disposal,’ said he. •Where’s y our hat ?* ‘ln the breaktast-room.’ ‘l’ll iri >g the gentleman's hat,’ said a waiter. ‘Don’t give yourself the trouble,’ said Roseberg. •No trouble, sir,’ said the waiter. •I insist upon it,' said Roseberg. Tuft waiter grinned* and stood still. I seized iiis arm tinnly, and held him ms tiouless. •Waiter,’ said 1. •Sir.’ ‘Bring it instantly. *Y r es, sir.’ •Anything else, sir*’ said the waiter to me, returning with the Fat. ‘No. Tramp; begone.’ •Y’es, sir,’ said the w-uter, bowing respect fully. •Waiter,’ said Roseberg to another do mes! ick, accidentally passing. •1 vc no time toaiteud to anything now,’ said the waiter, without stopping. Waiter,’ said 1, sternly. ‘Yes, sir said the fellow, wheeling round short, md stop ung id front of me,w tn a bow. ‘What do you wish, Roseberg ?’ said i. •My gloves fiom 'he break last-room.’ ‘You iiear, you r-iacal!’ said I. ‘Certainly, sir,’ said the man, and brought them. ‘That’s very curious, uow,’ said Rose berg. • l’hese fellows do not pay the slghtest hi teni ion to me.' \V'e waked together, arm-in arm, up toward Fort i’uinani, where I determined to reveal to my unfortunate friend the highly important secret winch I discovered. I led him to the very summit, without say ing any thing. When we reached 'lie top i paused. ■Roseberg,’ said I, ‘l've something awful to say to you. Y’ou just now made ,t re mark, that the domesticks of that hou-1 did not respect you.’ •I did,’said Roseberg. ‘My friend; ‘Good heavens! you alarm me.’ •It is my intention to do so.’ ‘What on earth do you mean ?’ ‘I am going to say a painful; a terrible thing. In the remark which you made, touching the servants of Mr. Cozzen’s hotel you were right.' ‘They do not respect me.’ •They do not; and what is worse, no one respects yon.' ■wiiut ii„ J,uov. Oo you iiie.uj, sir:’ said 1 e berg. To do you an act of true friendship. To reveal to you a humiliating truth. lam not _;oing to quarrel with you- 1 have no mo tive hm your own happiness. And 1 ask you now, as a man of discernment, and a man of honour, to listen to w bat 1 am going to say. Y’ou have all the requisites neces sary to * "tmnaml respect. But you are not respected. Y'ou are too; too;’ •Speak out, lor heaven’s sak- !’ exclaimed Roseberg. ‘Y’ou are too; civil!* said I, Roseberg started ; turned pale, then red, pale again ‘You are too indiscriminately civil You let yours*- 1 !' down by your civility. Y’o'i proclaim yuur»elf to be nobody. You do not understand human nature if you expect to in die your way through the world by rivility. It is a virtue only in the hands of •xperiencc and discretion. Y’ou must not be uncivil to any .one. By no means. But beware of being too civil. As the world goes, a merely amiable man is a goose among foxes. Take your place in society for what you are. Attempt to be nothing more, but do not permit yourself to be anything less. Stand by your minutest rights. Only waive them wlisre you know and ace known Os course there . r excep tions to t lose ru!> * m the.-eyour ;<>od scm,e a:hl good feeling ■ ... ea-ily discover. Even among people in the most respectable clas ses of society, there are very, very few who cui hear much rivility. They mistake dis interestedness for design, courtesy for a tribute to th< ir superiour importance, anil iook upon a person desirous of pleasing his fallow creatures generally as an imposter; a blackleg; or fool, who cau be imposed upon at pleasure. I have known persons subjected to insrll from over-civility. So ciety abounds with minds who think such tnsy he encroached upon,and who are always pleased with an opportunity of being over bearing when tier think they can he with impunity. Ridnue such folks, aid they respect you. But he civil to them ; be over civil, to them, and they despise, and neglect, and insult you.’ •I am stupified,' said Rosebeg, ‘but I am enlightened and impressed.’ ‘Am I not right ?’ •Perfectly.’ •Will you act upon my counsels?’ •Instantly, and rigidly.’ ‘Y’ou bear me no ill will ?’ ‘My dear said Roseberg laying his hand upon his heart. •Take care,’ said I. •True,’ said he. ‘I must commence at once and in order that 1 may do so hark ye, tny friend. The truth is, you have taken with me a very Lieat liberty. You would not have presumed so far it you had uot known me to be, that which you have complained that 1 am, an over-civil man. I now see the character in its true light; and there is, I acknowledge, something contemptible in it. Y’es, I see it; 1 blush for it. I have been, as you say, too universally, t#o outrageous ly eml .' To be Continued. A wholetole F llow.-- A greenhorn lately tool* a notion to get married. A for the ceremony was concluded, Jona'ba'i took a quarter of a I In- fro u his pocet, deliber ately walked up t»» the parson and handed it to him, saying ‘-Parson, knot) ti e whole, youueeda'tgive tae back any change.”