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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.