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BTjQi'ETTi.
Wo locvo to insert a littlo “etiquette”
for me amuse ncnt of the ladies, from Frazer’s
M ijji* ne, tor ttie special direction ot young
ivies in t.ieir mode of refusing an oiler of
m imago, no less than to console gentlemen
wuo uny be refused :
*• T.iuugh it is impossible to say any thing
very much to the purpose about refusals gen.
crally, a little tact and observation will always
tell you whetiier the girl who refused you
would have been worth having, had she ac
cepted. iam speaking of verbal communica
t.o is only, as nobody evei writes who can
speik. It is usual, in all cases of refusal, for
* ue lady to say that she is deeply grateful for the
bo lor you have done her; but feeling only
friendship for you, she regrets that she cannot
accept your proposal, fee. &’• I have heard
t ie wjrds so often that I know them by heart.
T.te words, however varied, signify little ; it
is t ie tone and manner in which they are pro
nounced that must guide you in forming your
estimate of the cruel one. If they are pro
pounced with evident marks of sorrow instead
of triumph, showing unfeigned regret for hav
ing caused pain which she could not alleviate
—if her voice is soft, broken and tremulous—
lier eye dimmed with a half-formed tear, which
it requires even an effort to subdue —then, !
say, you may share in her sorrow, for you
have probably lost a prize worth gaining; but
though you grieve, you may also hope, if you
arc a man of any pretension, for there is evi
dently good feeling to build upon. Do not,
therefore, fly out and make an idiot of your,
self, on receiving your refusal; submit with
a good grace; solicit a continuance of friend
ship, to support you under the heart crushing
affliction you have sustained. Take her hand
at parting ; kiss it fervently, but quietly ; no
outre conduct of any kind—-just a little at the
expense of your own failure, without however,
attempting to deprive her of the honor of the
victory. Rise in her estimation by the manner
in which you receive your sentence; let her
sorrow be mingled witft admiration, and there
is no knowing how soon things will change.
These instructions, you will perceive, are not
intended for every one, as they require skill,
tact, quickness and feeling, in order to be ap
predated and acted upon. If you want these
qualities, just make love purse in hand ; it is
a safe mo le of proceeding, and will answer
admirably with all ranks, from Almack's to
the Borough. There is only oue class with
whom it will not answer,*and that is the very
class worth having.
“If o.i the other hand, the lady refuses you
in a ready-made and well-delivered speech,
which had evidently been prepared and kept
waiting for you, than make your bow, and
thank your stars for your lucky escape. If
she admonishes your inconsiderate conduct,
b.ds you calm your excited feelings, and sup
port your affliction—if she triumphs, in fact,
and is condescendingly 'polite—then cut a
caper for joy, and come down in the attitude
of John Bo'ogna’s flyitig’Mercury, for you
have ample cause to rejoice. If the lady snaps
at you, as much as to say, “ You are an impu.
dent fellow”—which may be someiimes true,
though it should not exactly be told—then re
ply with a few stanzas of Miss Landon’s song.
• There ia in southern climes a breeze,
That sweeps with changeless course the seas,
Fixed to one point—oh, faithful gale !
Thou art now for my wandering.sail.’
If she bursts out into a loud fit of laughter, as
I o ice knew a ludv to do, llien join her by all
meins ; for you may be sure that she is an ill.
bred iiayden or a down-right idiot. But if,
unable to speak, grief at having caused you
pain make* her burst into tears, as a little
S.velish girl once did when such a proposal
w \s in ide to her—then join her if you like, for
tiie chances are that you have lost one really
worth weeping for.”
Tnis often refused writer is Captain Orlan
do S iberiash, who of course will lie excluded
fro n society after such instructions ! The
captain says it is* lawful for ladies to tell the
world of the refusals they have dealt 'out;
heir him—
“ You often hear ladies blamed for telling
the world of the refusals they have dealt out ;
this, I take to be very foolish; for if you or
any of toe wrathful rejected, had gained the
battle of Waterloo, or achieved some other
little triumph of the kind, would you conceal
it from the world, merely to spare the tender
feelings of the vanquished ? Not you indeed ;
and as conquests are the triumph of the fair,
and proposals the trophies of victory, it is not
to be wondered at if, like ourselves, they
sometimes boast of their success. I see no
reason, indeed, why a fair, honorable proposal
should not be told : only your vanity feels
hurt at not being able to make any impression
on a pretty girl’s heart; or you are ashamed
at having failed in a money speculation, car
ried on under tiie mask of love—in that case
you may well blush at being detected. In all
others, do as I do ; tell the whole-affair your*
self, if the Lady does not. I am, indeed, par
ticularly liberal on such points; for, if a pretty
girl lays greater stress on a civil speech than it
was intended to convey, I never contradict,
but leave her the honor of the victory. And
why should women be blamed for telling the
result of your proposal ? What would it be
if thfcy told the manner in which it was made?
llow would you like to hear a description of
the pretty figure you cut on the occasion—
your conceited, vapid and confident presump
tion, on makiug the proposal—your silly, as
tonished, and abashed look on receiving your
dismissal ? How would you like to hear of
your fawning, praying, cringing, supplications
for the hand of a rich heiress—of your un
manly tears, and more unmanly threats?
Would it be very pleasant to have your bra
vado conduct in advancing, and your ban-dog
xeowl of revenge and coarse vulgarity in
threatening, laid bare to the world ? The best
display a man makes on such an occasion is
but foolish ; and no one would wish to be re
minded of the blushing and sheepish bashful
ness which prevented him from putting a few
comprehensible sentences together, merely to
sny, “ will you marry-me ?” Now, tliese
things, to the honor of the sex, be it said, are
reldom told ; and yet what admirable stories
jsotnc could tell ! and do tell occasionally,
though but in r trifling way. If, tlierefore, the
hard-hearted girl only boasts of having re
fused you, plead guilty at once to the tender
afllictiou, and thank jour stars that things are
n«v wore*'
i THE *TTURK.
Who is there that would not know tlie fu.
turn ? jfTiiere is noue with mind so philosophic
or passion so dormant that ho never speculate*
upon tiie probable course of coming events.
How anxiously are our eyes fixed upon the
shadows which, os the poet sings, are cast be
i fore, that in their indistinct pencilling* our
imaginations may trace our prospective des
tinies. Destiny, tliere is something heart
stiring in the world. As to the past, why it is
the past, wlietlier it brought weal or wo, that
weal has gladdened or that wo, has saddened
our hearts ; its bearings or its utmost influence
hare fieen'encountered, nnd^thcstrife with them
is over. But the future, the very thought.
A vast flood is sweeping past us, to whose
onward flow no place is inaccessible; lofty
towers, mighty bulwarks, the vast solitudes of
nature, are all open to that flood! Upon its
billows we ate now tossed ; and far, far into
the distance be.'ore us, farther than the eve can
penetrate the gloom, which gathers ns a funeral
shroud above, we hear the resounding surges.
What shall lie our fate amid the continuous
wa’ers? Shall we be quietly carried on their
bosom amid scenery where the sunshine of
lieuvenly joy reposes in enlivening radiance to
to the Land of Rest; or shall they hurry us
through the regions of spiritual desolation to
that bourne where hope expires and the dark
ness becomes profound ?
Oh! the long, long endless future ! Who
can entertain the idea without a shudder. Our
immortality is enough to startle the boldest of
us. What weak, inconsiderate creatures are
we to have such a fearful gift conferred upon
us; and this gift, in our waywardness we
often convert into a toy and amuse ourselves
with it, as a child would amuse itself with a
sleeping lion. “ Man is a strange animal,” an
unaccountable compound of insanity, and rea.
son. On all topics of personal, and temporal
concernment he exhibits the acuteness of supe
rior intelligence ; on the weightier matters of
a spiritual and eternal character, which must
exercise a controlling influence over his whole
future career, he manifests the indifference, the
vacillation of a lunatic. With this thirsting
avidity to read the scroll of fate, lie possessed
the power to make his destiny, and yet refuses
through mere indifference or blindness to ex
ercise it. With this burning and quenchless
desire for happiness, he seeks for it along that
highway which is piled with the blanching bones
of his deluded predecessors, w’m have failed in
t ie pursuit ; and regardless of those tokens he
hastens unheedingiv on, until he falls a victim
to his error and becomes another warning to
olhers as inconsiderate as himself.
Why will men err, when the truth is written
as with sunbeams and placarded all around
them in characters so conspicuous that the
wayfaring man cannot mistake them, that the
way of happiness is the way of holiness. Let
men love and fear God, pursue righteousness,
encounter with resignation those vicissitudes,
which are meant to prove and purify them,
and they need not dread the future, for they
shall be given to read its pages, nor shrink at
the idea of immortality, for all shall be filled
with joy, Baltimore Monument.
THE WIFE OF OSCEOLA.
There was a touching commentary on wo
man displayed in the dying hour of the Semi
nole chieftain. The stern old warrior who bad
gone through life, without having in appear
ance done aught to win the imperishable love
of woman, but passed a Way from the earth with
his head pillowed on a female bosom, and the
eye of affection watching the decaying affec
tion of his own. Cold as the heart of the sa
vage is supposed to he in regard to the social
and domestic feelings the death couch of Osce
ola yields triumphant evidence of the Indian’s
submission to the sway of the affections. A
captive, and to add to the bitterness of impris
onment, treacherously captured; smarting un
der the sense of his nation’s many wrongs ;
feelings that with his death, passed away ti c
sole chance for the delivcrence of his people
from the avaricious power of the w hite man,
it may be well conceived that the soul of the
chief was filled with emotions, and that he had
but few feelings to spare in exercise of the
love and sympathy of life. But the power of
woman mustered the keen remembrances of
the Indian’s will, and the voice of his faithful
wife, as her arms supported his head and wined
from his brow the death dumps, fell gratefully
and soothingly upon the ebbing sensfes of the
captive. In witnessing her entire devotion and
love, the Indian forgot his wrongs, and the in
domitable spirit, so often flushing in tiie van of
the battle and fanning the leaves of the green
wood with the hot breath of war, passed away
with a murmur of love to her, the companion
of his freedom, and the willing sharer of his
prison.
TWO TO TWO.
Mr. Wilkie, a gentleman of (Sporting pro
pensities, met a friend of his—Ah Richards,
how arc ye, my boy ? You are just the fellow'
1 wanted. You must be umpire between mo
and Hickley. We are going to have a trotting
match ; my greys against some of his cattle.’
Richards— ‘ Ah, indeed ! that is a curious
coincidence, Hickley and I are after the very
same thing. How are you going ? Wilkie,
*ln our phtfctdnr, two horses to two.’ ‘Extra
ordinary 1 We are two to two 100 ! And where
are you to run to ?’ (With a prophetic grin.)
Wilkie. To Too-Tooing.’ Ilichltrds. ‘Well
this is surprising! Wc are two to two too, to
Too-Tooing too
FIGURATIVE.
The editor of an eastern paper in speaking
of the the destruction of Pennsylvania Hall
says ‘ Each smouldering brick-bat of Pennsyl
vania Hall will w’alk forth an Abolitionist, and
from the ashes ofeacli pillar and p< w will rise,
phffinix-like, an Aliolition Society.’ The fel
j low must be a poet.
I Mineral Waters.—( till at Sbotwell’s.
“ The season of Soda is come
And her fountain is flowing again ;
Avaunt Whiskey, Brandy and Rum,
And hail to thee ! Adam’s Champagne.
How it scatters its volatile spray,
And sends up its sparks in our faces ;
It drives Spleen and Megrim sway,
And brings Mirth und Wit in their places.
’Tis the cordial of Low, no doubt,
(As good for the ladies as tea,)
ij For Venus, as poets give out,
W as ‘•err. from the fro*h of the eeft “
I THE ESTATE.
We extract tlxi following amusing account
of tlx: escape of a convict from Louisiana
Penitentiary, at Baton Rouge, from the ga
zette of that town. It presents a mixture of
during and address rarely surpassed.
A Comical Escape. —On the 14th May,
the Louisiana Penetentiary presented a scene
of wonder, confusion and commotion, occa
sioned by the unanticipated departure of one
its inmates.
“Underwood, sentenced to reside in the Pe
nitentiary 14 years, for the gallant and bold of
fence of highway robbery, after two year’s
residence, got wearied of the monotonous du
ties which he had to perform, and the damp
gloomy walls which restrained the flights of
his genius; and in a fit of uinui, determined
to break the chains w’hieh bound him to his
home, and once more become a wanderer up
on the face of the earth As he was a black
smith, he found but little difficulty in filing the
chain in a part where it w ould esca| e detec
tion, and fastening it round his leg. apparently
as usual. During the intervals allowed for
eating and relaxing from labor, he made a
dashing pair of false whiskers, and thus pre
pared, he w'aited with cool, but untiring watch
fulness, to slctc any opportunity which might
offer. Fortune soon granted what the law
denied.
The dinner liell rang out its heart reviving
peal on the 14th of May, and the convicts left
their labor to solace themselves for tiie evils
they endured, and Underwood, to devise a plan
of escape. The wardens w ere engaged at
tending to several visitors, and he found him
self from their vigilant security.
In walking to his cell, seeming and resolv
ing, he accidentally stumbled over a trunk in
the way, “ D the trunk!” said he, grasp
ing the toe and dancing with pain. But a
bright idea dawned ujxvn his mind, and a tri
umphant smile lighted up his countenance. —
He caught the trunk in his arms, and carefully
peering along the dark passage, he carried it
into one of the dark cells. There he opened
it, and extracted an elegant suit of new clothes,
a pair of green spectacles, a polished pair of
boots, a fashionable black hat, a pair of soft
kid gloves, a bundle of segars, and pocket
book containing money. lie had no water
to make his ablutions, but he found a substitute
or perhaps thought the matter Itencath his no
tice. In a few moments he had donned his
apparel, whiskers and all, and taking a coquet,
ish peep in a pocket glass. He surveyed—a
ready dandy. With a smirk of vanity on his
countenance, Le sat down and indited an aflec
tionate valedictory letter to his comrades. lie
then sallied forth into the yard, and most fop
pishly swaggered around, combing his whis
kers, and contemplating the building with
marks of astonishment on his countenance.
After showing off for a while, he concluded
that it was time to snuffthe free breeze, placing
a cigar in his mouth, he swung himself most
languidly into the blacksmith’s shop, and ask
ed for permission to get a light. His fellow
convicts bo w r ed politely to the dashing dandy,
who drew the manuscript of an old song from
his coat pocket (left there accidentally by the
former owner of tiie garment) and used it to
light his cigar. “ Poor Betsey !” said lie.
sighing, as he put it in the fire, “ How cruel I
am to burn your letter, but necessity orders it,
there is nothing else clean at hand.”
He walked leisurely to the gate and entered
into conversation with one of the guards,—
“ llow many miserable guilty mortals have
you in this gloomy retreat of crime!”
“ There are about 120 convicts here now
sir.”
“ How my blood thrills when I think of the
degraded state of mankind, when I view so
much Wretchedness and suffering. * Have they
any chance of escape ?”
The guard clashed his arms significantly.
“ A!)! you keep a strict watch !—but I
can’t conceive bow you can endure the sight
of so much suffering, 1 have always disliked
to be where crimes are punished ! —my nerves
are weak; I feel for my fellow-creatures how
ever abandoned. Good evening sir.” And
he expended n paw wrapped up in glove lea
ther," which the guard respectfully touched.
The gate was opened, lie entered the passage
that leads to the street, meet the warden
touched his hat and made a polite bow, which
was no less courteously returned—and lie
hold Underwood in the street chuckling at his
success, as free as the wind.
The whiskers were instantly removed, the
barber received a visit, and Underwood, now
alias Seville, Was shaved, brushed, perfumed,
and completed adonized. He then visited a
a store, bought a suite of new clothes and a
cane, changed his appearance Once tndre, and
like a perfect loafer, cdhimencCd to lounge
rOund the corners and discuss politics.
“ What a handsome man ?” whispered a
pretty young lady passing.
“ Yes,” said a companion—“ ’Tis a pity his
hair is shaved so close—it makes him look as
if he had just come from the Penitentiary.”
“ Oh ! don’t you know that it is the fashion.”
Mr. Selville smiled graciously at the flat
tering note of the beautiful ladies. At length
he got into a quarrel about the election, re
ceived a challenge, agreed to meet his anta
gonist next morning, got a second, and mat
ters being arranged, he invited the company
to a coffee house, and treated like a gentle
man A few minutes after, he departed, whi*
ther none can tell.
THE RETORT COURTEOUS.
Every body knows that there is one mem
her at least of Brookes’s Club, whose stupidity
there and elsewhere is proverbial; so much
so, that when any one commits a mistake it is
customary to hear the self-coiidemiuit’on
uttered by the exclamation, “ I am a regular
Joey H.” They other night the veritable Joey
happened to hear a juvenile member of the
menagerie use his name in that manner, and
cried out, “ Sir you arc a fool.” “ You are
right,” was tiie prompt reply, “ that is exactly
what I meant to say.” The room was literally
convulsed.
COMPLAISANCE.
Complaisance pleases all, prejudices none,
adorns wit, renders humor agreeable, augments
1 friendship, redoubles love, and complying with
generosity, becomes the secret charm of the
t society of nil mordkind.
MANNERS IN MISSOURI.
A member elect of the lower chamber of the
Legislature of this state, was last year per
suaded by some wags of his neighborhood that
if he did not reach tlx: State House at ten
o clock on the day of Assembly, he could not
be sworn, and would lose his scat. He im
mediately mounted, with hunting frock, rifle
and bow ie knife, and spurred till lie got to the
door of the State House, wi.cre he hitched his
nag. A crowd were in the chamber of ti c
lower house on the second floor, walking
about with hats on and smoking cigars.—
Theic he passed, ran up stairs into ti e Senate
chamber, set hi* rifle against the wall and
bawled out, ** Strangers, whars the man what
swors me in 1” at the same time taking his
credentials. “ Walk this way,” sail! the cierk,
who was at tiie moment igniting n real Prin
cipe, and he was sworn without inquiry.—
When the Teller came to count no>es, he
found that there were was one Senator too
many present; the nustnke discov
ered, and the huntsman was informed that he
did not belong there. “ Fool who! with your
corn bread !” lie roared. “ You can’t flunk
this child, no how you can fix it. I’m elect
ed to this here Legislature, and I’ll go agin
all banks and eternal improvements, and if
there’s any of you oratory gentleman wants
to get skinned, jest say the word, and I’ll light
upon you like a niggar on a woodchuck. My
constituents sent me here, and if you want to
floor this two lugged animal, jest as soon as you
like, for though I’m from the back country,
I’m a leetle smarter than any other quadruped
you can turn out of this drove.” After this
admirable harangue, he put his bow'ie knife be
tween his teeth, and took up his rifle with
“Come here, old Suke,stand by me!” at the
same time presenting it to the chairman, who
however, had seen such people before. Af
ter some expostulation, he was persuaded that
he belonged to the lower chamber, Upon which
he sheathed his knife, flung his gun on his
shoulder, and with profound congee, remarked
“ Gentlemen, 1 beg your pardon, but if 1 didn’t
think that ar lower room was the groggery,
may I be shot.”
ARKANSAS AHEAD?
The strongest ki'ul of team —Alligators in
harness — Zip, my long tails / —They may talk
of taming “t/n-taming hyenas,” of bringing
ferocious tigers under subjection and making
them as gentle as lambs and all that sort of
thing ; but when it comes to break alligators
so that they will work in harness, we knock
under. The invention of steam was a mere
circumstance in comparison—electro-magne
tism, even if it is ever brought to such perfec
tion as to assist in turning a windmill in a gale,
would he a minor consideration—but to the
story.
The Captain of a steamboat engaged in the
Red river trade has informed us, although we
are inclined to think hs was joking, that a
Wealthy individual up that way has tamed and
trained a couple of alligators so that they will
swim in harness and haw and gee about as
regular as oxen. So Well, indeed, have they
been broken that their owner frequently tack
les them up, hitches them to a “dug-out,” and
cruises about the bayous and ponds when tie
waters are too high to admit of his going on
horseback.
On a late occasion, while sailing along qui
etly under the banks of a bayou with his 1 crit
ters” harnessed in abreast, lie was seen by a
hunter, who sung out;
“ I say, there! hallo ! drap your dug out
astern and give me a chance to plug one of
them varmints.”
“ Don’t shoot this way—take care, don’t
Vou see I'm after them ?” said the owner, as
the backwoodsman levelled his rifle.
“ I see you’re after ’em, and you’ll see a
hall follerin on the same trail in less than two
minits. Look out lor yourself, stranger, here
goes for a crack at the varmint this way.”
“ Slop! held up your rifle. That’s my
team are aiming at. Look at the harness,
there, just on the top of the water. They are
hitched to the canoe, and I am on a little jaunt
out back to look at and enter tome lands.”
“ Well, I declar!” said the old hunter, “if
that don’t beat all the doins I’ve heer’d on my
way in the thick settlements. I reckon you
understand animal magnetism, as they call it,
a few.”
“ I understand training alligators.”
“ Well, you Can pass—hope you’ll have a
pleasant excursion.”
The man now stirred up his tcnhl. and was
soon under way at a rate which would leave a
common high pressure steamboat out of sight
in no time. jb 0. Picayune.
A vender of buttons, buckles, and o’her
small ware, who occupied a small shop at tie
head of a street in Glasgow, in which ere white,
the notable Bailie Nichdl Jarvie domiciled,
noticed a country louf standing at his w ndoW
one day, with an undecided kind of wanting,
to-buy expression on his face, and inquired
whether he had “ Ony pistols to sell ?” The
shopman had long studied the counter logic of
endeavoring to persuade a customer to buy
what you have for sale, rather than what tl e
customer may ask for. “ Mon,” said he
“ wl at will be the use o’ a pistol to you ?
lame yourself an’ ma be same itlicr body wi’t!
You should buy a flute; sec, there’s ane, an’
it’s na sac dear as a pistol; just stop an’ open,
finger about thac sax wee holes, and blaw in at
the big ane and ye can hae ony tune ye like,
after a wee while’s practice, besides you’ll may
be blaW a tune into the heart o’ some blythe
lassy that’ll bring you the worth o’ a thousand
pistols or German flutes either.” Mon,”
said the simpleton, “ I’m glad that I’ve
Iv’e met wi’ you the day—just te’t up;”
and paying down the price asked, and bidding
guid day, with a significant nod of the head,
! remarked, “ It’ll no be my fault gin ye get na
en opportunity of riding the bnxi.se at my
weddin’ gin’ he had learned me to be my ain
piper.
———
Dr. Rush was perhaps one of the most un
! tiring students that ever lived. Two young
physicians were conversing in his presence
once, and one of them said—“ When I finish
ed my studies”—“ When you finished your
studies!” said the Doctor, abrubtly. “ Why,
you must be a happy man to have finished so
young. Ido Dot expert to finish mine while I
, five.”
WERE ADAM AND EVE BLACK OR WRTTE ?
First, that there exists a cause or power
which I denominate albino, which sometime*
smldenly, or without further intervul than from
father to sons, changes black into perfect
white, like paper, straw color, yellow, and
even intojpie-bald, ns we hove seen to be the
case in men, in the head and feet of the mendai
monkeys,Hand in horses. Secondly, that this’
cause also changes green into yellow and into
white as I said of the lory ; and red into black
as takes place in the crest and gills of fowls.
Thirdly, that it is more difficult to change red
into other colors, and these again into black
for those mutations we seldom witness.—!
Fourthly, that thesaid cause, whatever it be,
operates in man, quadrupeds and birds, more
or less in some tlmn in others, nnd with more
facility and frequency among domestic than
wild animals. Fifthly, that it is accidental,
and resident in the mothers. Sixthly, that it
does not sensibly alter tie forms and* propor
tions, nor destroy fecundity. That its effects
or.ee produced are perpetuated. EightUv
that nlbinoes mixed with common individuals
produce mestizoes or mulattoos. Ninthly
that the stgiit is weakened to such a degree,
that alllinocs amongst men canjwith difficulty
procure subsistence ; and the same result, or
even worse, is the case with many animals and
birds. And, tenthly, that the black color of
the negroes | cnetrates to the flesh and the
b >nes. Arguing on tlicic pretriscs, vve may
propose the question, were Adam and Eve
white or black ? He who considers the for.
mer to have been the ease, may contend, that
that the cause, which I call albino, some time
or other produced a black individual from two
while patents, which has occurred, as I men
tioued, in sheep and poultry ; and that thesaid
negro perpetuated his race, all tho«e now ilt
the world having descended from him. Those
who hold the contrary opinion, may assert that
Adam was black, and that the above-men
tioned cause could, as wc have said, change
the black color of any of his descendants into
white, red, straw colored, a fid yellow ; Whence
may originate all those varieties of colors
which are amongst men. This idea will tie
strengthened by the fact, that these changes ap.
pear more frequent, and are, therefore,Jmoro
natural) than those {of white nnd red into
black. It is, moreover, corroborated by the
fact, that blacks are more vigorous and robust
tlmn white man ; indicating bv this, that they
are not of a degenen te race. If it is answer
ed, that whites are more numerous nnd more
widely spread, it may he rejoined, that this is
owing to our reckoning red, straw, and cop.
per-colored men as white; and the fact of
whites being weaker and of more imperfect
organization, nnd consequently, more sociable
and hlimerous.— A zara's Nat. History of the
Quadrupeds of Paraguay, fyc.
ON LITERARY STYLE.
On style, Milton holds this language t “For
me, readers, although I cannot say 1 am utter
ly untrained in those rules which best rhetor:*
cians have written in any learned language,
yet true eloquence I find to be none but the
serious and hearty love of truth; and that
whose mind soever is fully possessed with a
fervent desire to know good things, and with
the dearest charity to infuse the knowledge of
them into others—when such a man would
speak, his words, by what t Cdh express, like
so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about
him at command, and in well-ordered files, as
he would wish, fall aptly into their own Jila
ces»”
Dr. Johnson Lays it down, that he who
would acquire and style elegant and smooth, must
devote his days and his nights to the reading
of Addison.
Dr. Franklin’* plan was; to road a num
ber of the Spectator, shut the book, and try
how nearly lie could imitate the original.
Longinus advises a Writer, when about to
attempt a lofty (light ; to conceive within
hitnself how Homer, or any one or the master
spirits of the world Would have expressed
himself upon such a subject. In our day, one
may ask himself—how would Milton, or Cow
per, or Robert Hall have expressed himself?
Foster, in his inimitable Eisays,observes—
“ False eloquence is like a false alarm of thun
der, where a sober man, that is not apt to star,
tie at sounds, looks out to see if it be not the
rumbling of a Cart.” And again—“ Elo
qucncc resides in the thought, and no words
can make that eloquent which will not be so
in the plainest that could possibly express the
sense.”
The Latinized pedantry of style, so preva
lent in our day, is well taken oil’ by this licen
tious Wit, where the Paris student, speaking of
his religion, says—“ 1 revere olympicals; I
!o trial ly severe tiie supernal astripotent; 1 dl*
lige and rednmc my porxims; I observe the
decalogical precepts; and according to the
facultatule of my vires, J do not descede from
them one breadth of an unquicule: neverthe
less it is veriform, that because Mammona doth
not supergurtitate any thing in my loculcs 1
am somewhat rare and lent to supererogatc
the clemosyne, to those egents that ostially
queritate their stipe.”—Funtagrucl, to cure
him of his Latin style, caught him by the throat,
nnd so throttled him that he soon began tolx’g
in his own tongue—naturally. Our author
adds, that Octavian Augustus advises to “ shun
all strange words with as much care as pilots
of ships avoid the rocks of the sea.”
An interesting account is recorded in the
Boston Medical and Surgical Journal of an
operation performed by Dr. Lewis of Bos
ton. by which the deformity occasioned by the
loss of a part of the upper jaw and a portion
of the lower lip of the patient was remedied.
The sufferer had sustained the loss from a
blow inflicted by a wlmle, which left him in
a dreadful mutilated condition. Dr. L. above
named restored the lip, and Dr. Harwood
supplied an artificial palate nnd set of teeth, by
which the deformity was almost entirely cor
rected, and the young man on wham the ©pe*v
ation was performed is enabled to articu
late nearly as well as evor. Independently
of the celebrity to which such skill must give
rise, these gentlemen will be well rewarded for
what they have done, by the consciousness of
having restored a fellow-being to the ability
of enjoying an existence which must other
wire have been only a burthen to him.