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yiraon of o«r peopie. the clergy wooid interpose U> it*
•uleate patience, forbearance, and brotherly love > i.,
instead of inflaming tlie passions which alienate the
northern and southern states, and colly recommending
disunion rather than the erections or admission of slate
states into the confederacy,mini9ters of the gospel would
tsach us how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together
in unity : if, instead of pandering to the coarse appetite
of monarchists by collecting from every filthy deposit
straggling instances of the profligacy ot border morals
or city license, and proclaiming them to the world as
oonclusive evidences of prevailing immorality and re
publican licentiousness, they would (if indeed they
must transcend their sacred function,) vindicate the
character of our free institutions and the morals of our
people, notwithstanding occasional outrages; if they
would discard from their alliance in behalf of the Indian,
the slave and the Mexican,the “friends of stronger gov
ernments” in Europe, and uphold and sustain instead
of disuniting and traducing our people and govern ment;
then, would our march to eminence be peaceful and
prosperous, and before the curtain of time shall have
fallen upon another centuary, unborn millions through
out the vast and untrodden regions of our productive
Boil, gathered together, the children of oppression, from
the four winds of heaven, men of every tongue and
clime, will exhibit to the world the sublime spectacle of
a republic of boundless extent of territory and unprece
dented pßpulousness, flourishing in stable security upon
the bread basis of popular will. The capability of man
for self-government will have ceased to be a problem.
We may be mistaken in our judgement, but we are
persuaded that if members of the clergy had never
promoted or sanctioned the efforts of the abolitionists
in a spirit of misguided philanthropy, the present un
happy state of feeling between different sections of the
Union would never have existed. This interference of
the ministery with politcal discussions, this prompt
ing of popular and sectional delusion, is eminently wrong
end intolerably disgusting. But though we are indig
nant, let us be strictly just. In the American church
there are nyeele, unpretending, and godly men, who
•tand aloof from these vexatious movements, and con
fine themselves exclusively to the work of their divine
Master. And it is proper to state, that in the appeal
we have now made 'to the clergy in behalf of religion
and humanity, we have addressed ourselves to that
portion of the ministry alone, which, feeling the justice
and truth of our remarks, will stand rebuked, and there
fore indignant. Entertaining for the former class esteem
and reverence, we have no apology to offer to these lat
ter for the boldness, it may be the presumption, with
which we have spoken unwelcome but salutary truths.
Engaged in a good cause we have no false delicacy, no
priestly apprehensions. But while we respect a well
ordered priesthood, we love our country; while we
revere religion, we detest fanaticism ; and while we are
pleased to behold under benign auspices, clouds of in
cense ascending in peaceful union from altars of every
denomination to the throne of grace, we abhor political
religionism.
Let clerical agitators beware. In rending the tree
with Prospero to liberate the imprisoned spirit to do their
bidding, let them take warning from the impressive
lessons of antiquity, lest its reaction be dessructive to
themselves. But we will not despond; for, these as
saults, however continuous and violent, can never
overthrow the muniments which surround us; and
there i* a detergent energy in our system, which, how
ever tardily excited, will effectually repel them. And
when the “deluge of fanaticism shall have (alien back
from the Ark of Freedom, the dove will go forth with
his olive branch," the harbinger of peace and tranquili
ty, and the beautiful bow will be hung out in the hea
ven?, the emblem of reconciliation.
In our progress to eminence, we have not, like other
nations, to pass through a tedious pilgrimage ; separa
ted from the nations of the earth by the ocean, we have
no enemies to subdue ; no sudden reverses of fortune
to apprehend ; springing atonco into the vigor of early
manhood, we have no early history to compose; we
hav* only to fill up the measure of our dominion and
glory. We shall sooner than other people enter upon
the mature age of nations, and behold mind asserting its
supremacy; animated by those patrotic emotions which
glowed in the bosoms of our forefathers, we will spee
dily seek the enduring glories of peace, and by devot
ing all our energies to mental improvement, will adorn
with all the triumphs of genius the land of our nativity.
And when our power shall have attained its height, and
our government its magnificence, who shall prescribe
limits to its science or refinement ? Wherefore shall
we not attain to those heights of knowledge, which,
restoring us to the primitive range of intellectual vigor,
will aesimilate us to those men of the olden time who
were deemed worthy to hold friendly converse with
angelic spirits ? Yet the star of our destiny must ulti
mately set forever, for the only star that gives promise
of immortality is the one which conducted the eastern
sages to the feet of the infant Redeemer. Other nations
have perished, and left behind them a moral and a
memory of desolation, and the scattered vestiges of their
magnificence are at 'once the evidences of the pride
which goeth before ruin, and the prompters of mourn
ful and chastening feelings. The successor of the
fisherman sits upon the throne of the Caesars; the
descendants of Ishmael, whose empire extended
from the Atlantic to Bagdad, the seat of the Caliphs, from
the gardens of Cairo to the shades of the Alhambra,
have been driven back to the sandy deserts of Arabia ;
and the dynasties, which now seem to be firmly establish
ed, must yield to the empire of fate and furnish new
lessons for the future. And although speculation on
this subject may seem to be profitless, inasmuch as it is
given to no man to lift a corner of the vale which over
shadows the future ; yet when we reflect upon the
moral culture of our people, the nature of our institutions
originating in the consent of the governed, and founded
upos the purifying and salutary principles of Christianity
and freedom, we may justly anticipate a longer duration*
a more sublime destiny, than has marked the career of
other governments, whose foundations have been less
stable and permanent. When by the slow and peace
ful operation of wholesome public opinion, we shall have
emancipated the slave; when through the agency of
a sober and pious ministry, we shall have civilized the
savage on our frontier, we shall have no Goth to fear
like the Roman, no Moor like the Spaniard, no Arab
like the decendants of Constantine ; but we shall attend
singly to the preservation of our Union, to the intellectual
end moral culture of our people, to the development of
our vast resources, and to the perfection of our beautiful
system. And after having attained this elevation, w hen
*he whole fabric shall slide from its foundations and
crumble into ruins, we shall not, like the cities of the
desert,like Balbec and Palmyra, like the ancient seats
of empire and the arts, like Rome and Athens, leave
only vestiges of our former grandeur to attract the regard
of future generations ; but we shall bequeth to man those
indestructible principles of free government, which
though they cannot impart their immortality to perisha
ble institutions, will yet secure to the children of men*
to the consummation of ages, the greatest possible moral
elevation, the greatest political equality, and the purest
social happiness. But to attain this sublime elevation,
beyond which on this side of the grave, man has no hope
and heaven has no boon, let us bear constantly in mind
that we must realize the type of Roman virtue, and
snatch the thunders of the Olympian Jupiter to “ smite
LICENTIOUSNESS WHENEVER SIIE STRIVES TO BREAK A TA
BLE OF THE LAW OR THE BALLANCE Or JUSTICE.”
A late number of a Cincinnati pt percontains
tho following agreeable announcement :—“ It
is expected that the ed'tor of this journal will
be extensively cowhided in the course of the
day r
From Mr. Stephens’s new "Incidents of Travel."
THE BATTLE OF GKOKOVV.
The battle ofGrokow, the greatest in Eu
rope since that of Waterloo, was fought on the
twentyfifth of February, 1831, and the place
where 1 stood commanded a view of the
whole ground. The Russian army was un
der the command of Diebitsch, and consisted
of one hundred and forty-two thousand infan
try, forty thousand cavalry, and three hundred
and twelve pieces of cannon. This enormous
force was arranged in two lines of combatants,
and a third of reserve. Its left wing, between
Wavre and the marshes of the Vistula, con
sisted of four divisions of infantry of forty
seven thousand men, three of cavalry of ten
thousand five hundred, and one hundred and
eight pieces of cannon ; the right consisted of
three and a half divisions of infantry of thirty
one thousand men, four divisions of cavalry of
fifteen thousand seven hundred and fifty men,
and fifty-two pieces of cannon. Upon the
borders of the great forest opposite the Forest
of Eldera, conspicuous from where I stood,
was placed the reserve, commanded by the
Grand Duke Constantine. Against this im
mense army the Poles opposed less than fifty
thousand men and a hundred pieces of can
non, under the command of General Shrzy
necki.
At break of day the whole force of the Rus
sian right wing, with a terrible fire of fifty
pieces of artillery and columns of infantry,
charged the Polish left witli the determination
ofcarrying it by a single and overpowering
effort. The Poles, with six thousand five hun
dred men and twelve pieces of artillery, not
yielding a foot of ground, and knowing they
could hope for no succor, resisted this attack
for several hours, until the Russians slackened
their fire. About ten o’clock the plain was
suddenly covered with the Russian forces is
suing from the cover of the forest, seeming one
undivided mass of troops. Two hundred pie
ces of cannon, posted on a single line, com
menced a fire which made the earth tremble,
and was more terrible than the oldest officers,
many of whom had fought at Marengo and
Austerlitz, had ever beheld. The Russians
now made an attack upon the right wing—but
foiled in this as upon the left, Diebitsch direc
ted the strength of his army against the Forest
of Elders, hoping to divine the Poles into two
parts. One hundred and twenty pieces of
cannon were brought!® bear on this one point,
and fifty battalions, incessantly pushed to the
attack, kept up a scene of massacre unheard of
in the annals of war. A Polish officer who
was in the battle told me that the small streams
which intersected the forest were so chocked
with dead that the infantry marched directly
over their bodies. The heroic Poles, with
twelve battalions, for four hours defended the
forest against the tremendous attack. Nine
times they were driven out,and nine times, by a
scr.es of admirably-executed manoeuvres, they
repulsed the Russians with immense loss.
Batteries, now concentrated in one point,were
in a moment hurried to another, and the artil
lery advanced to the charge like cavalry,some
times within a hundred lcct of the enemy’s col
umns, and there opened a murderous fire of
grape.
At three o'clock, the Generals, many of
whom were wounded, and most of whom had
their horses shot under them, and louglit on
foot at the head of their divisions, resolved
upon a retrogade movement, so as to draw
the Russians on the open plain. Diebitsch,
supposing it to be a flight, looked over to the
city and exclaimed, “ Well, then, it appears
that, after this bloody day, I shall take ten in
the Belvidcre Palace.”—The Russian troops
debouched from the forest. A cloud of
Russian cavalry, with several regiments
of heavy cuirassiers at their head, advan
ced to the attack. Colonel Picutka, who
had kept up an unremitting fire from his bat
tery for five hours, seated with perfect sang
li Oid upon a disabled piece of cannon, remain
ed to give another effective fire, then left at
full gallop a post which lie had so long oecu
p.ed under that terrible fire of the enemy’s ar
tillery. This rapid movement of his battery
animated the Russian forces. The rivalry ad
vanced on a trot upon the line of a battery of
rocket. A terrible discharge was poured into
their ranks, and the horses, galled to madness
by the flakes of fire, became wholly ungov
ernable, and broke away, spreading disorder
in every direction; tho whole body swept
helplessly along the fire of the Polislh infantry,
and in a few minutes was so completely anni
hilated that, of a regiment of cuirassiers who
bore inscribed on their helmets the ‘lnvinci
bles,’ not a man escaped. The wreck of the
routed cavalry, pursued by the lancers,carried
along in its flight the columns of infantry. A
general retreat commenced, and the cry of
“Poland for ever!” reached the walls of War
saw to cheer the heads of its anxious inhabi
tajts. So terrible was the fire of that day,
that in the Polish army there was not a single
general or staff officer who had not his horse
killed or wounded under him ; two-thirds of
the officers, and, perhaps, of the soldiers, had
their clothed pierced with halls, and more than
a tenth part of the army were wounded. Thir
ty thousand Russians and ten thousand Poles
were left on the field of battle ; rank upon
rank lay prostrate on the earth,and the Forest
of Elders was so strewed with bodies that it
received from that day the name of the ‘ For
est of the Dead.” The Czar heard with dis
may, and all Europe with astonishment, that
the crosser of the Balkan had been foiled under
the walls of Warsaw.
All day, my companion said, the connonad
ing was terrible. Crowds of citizens, of both
sexes and all ages, were assembled on the spot
where we stood, earnestly watching the pro
gress of the battle, sharing in all its vicissi
tudes, in the highest state of excitement as the
clearing up of the columns of smoke showed
when the Russians or Poles had fled; and he
described the entry of the remnant of the Pol
ish army into Warsaw ns sublime and terri
ble ; their hair and faces were begrimed with
powder and blood ; their armor shattered and
broken ; and all, even dying men, were sing
ing patriotic songs ; and when the fourth re
giment, among whom was a brother of my
com >anion, and who had particularly distin
guished themselves in the battle, crossed the
bridge and filed slowly through the streets, j
their lances shivered against the cuirasses of
the guards, their helmets broken, their faces
black and spotted with blood, some erect,some
tottering, and some barely able to sustain 1
tltemselves in the saddle, above the stern cho
rus of patriotic songs rose the distracted cries
of mothers, wives, daughters, and lovers,
seeking among the broken [band for forms
forms dearer than life, many of whom were
then sleeping on the battle-field. My com
panion told me that he was then a lad of
seventeer,, and had begged with tears to be
allowed to accompany his brother ; but his
widowed mother extorted from him a promise
that he would not attempt it. All day he had
stood with his mother on the very spot where
wc did, his hand in hers, which she grasped
convulsively, as every peal of cannon seemed
the knell of her son ; and when the lancers
passed, she sprang fi om his side as she recog
nized in the drooping figure of an officer, with
his spear broken in his hand, the figure of her
gallant boy. He was then reeling in his sad
dle, his eye was glazed and vacant, and he died
that night in their arms.
NEVER TOO OLD TO LEARN.
Socrates, at an extreme old age, learned to
play on musical instruments. This would
look ridiculous for some of the rich old men
in our city, especially if they should take it
into their heads in thrum a guitar under a la
dyd’s window, which Socrates did not do, but
only learned io play upon some instrument of
his time—not a guitar—for the purpose of re
sisting the wear and tear of old age.
Cato, at eighty years of age, thought proper
to leara the Greek language. Many of our
young men, at thirty and forty, have forgotten
even the alphabet of a language, the knowledge
of which was necessary to enter college, and
which was made a daily exercise through col
lege. A fine comment upou their love of
letters, truly!
Plutarch, when between seventy and eighty,
commenced the study of the Latin. Many of
our young lawyers, not thirty years of age,
think that nisi prius, scire facias, Ac. are En
glish expressions ; and if you tell them that a
knowledge of Latin would make them appear
a little more respectable in their profession,
they will reply that they are too old to think of
learning Latin.
Boccaccio was thirty-five years of age when
he commenced his stJdies in polite literature.
Yet he become one of the three great masters
of the Tuscan dialect, Dante and Petrach be
ing the other two. There are many among
us ten years younger than Boccaccio,who are
dying ot ennui, and .egret that they were not
educated to a state for literature; but now
they are too old.
Sir Henry Spclman neglected the sciences
in his youth, but commenced the study of them
when he was between fifty and sixty years of
age*. After his time he became a most learn
ed antiquarian and lawer. Our young men
begin to think of laying their seniors on the
shelf when they have reached sixty years of
age. llow different the present estimate put
upon experience from that which characterized
a certain period of the Grecian republic,when
u man was not allowed to open his mouth in
caucuses or political meetings, who was under
forty years age.
Colbert, the famous French Minister, at six
ty years of age returned to his Latin and law
studies. How many of our college-learnt
men have ever looked into their classics since
their grrduation ?
Dr. Johnson applied himself in the Dutch
language but a few years before his death.
Most of our merchants and lawyers of twenty
five, thirty, and forty years of age, are obliged
to apply to a teacher a translate a business let
ter written in the French language, which
might be learned in a tenth part of the time
required for the acquisition of the Dutch ; and
all because they are too old to learn.
Ludovico Monaldesco, at the great age of
one hundred and fifteen, wrote the memoirs
of his own times. A singular exertion, no
ticed by Voltaire, who was himself one of the
most remarkable instances of the progress of
age in new studies.
Ogilhy, tiie translator of Homer and Virgil,
was unacquainted with Latin arid Greek till he
was past fifty.
Franklin did not fully commence his philo
sophical pursuits till he had reached his fiftieth
year. How many among be of thirty, forty,
and fifty, who read nothing but newspapers
for the want of a taste for natural philosophy!
But they are too old to learn.
Accorso, a great lawyer, being asked why
he began the study of law so late, answered
that indeed he began it late, but he should
therefore master it the sooner. The agrees
with our theory, that healthy old age gives a
man the power of accomplishing a difficult
study in much less time than would be neces
sary to one of half his years.
Dryden, in his sixty-eighth year, commen
ced the translation ofthe Iliad ; and his most
pleasing productions were written in his old
age.
We could go on and cite thousands of ex
amples of men who commenced anew study
and struck out into an entirely new pursuit,
either for livelihood or amusement, at an ad
vanced age. But every one familiar with the
biography of distinguished men will recollect
individual cases enough to convince him that
none but the sick and indolent will ever say,
* I am too old to study.' I’ortland Orion.
THE GREAT FIRST CAUSE.
The Macon Goode, author of the Studies of
Nature and the Translation of the Book of
Job, has in four stanzas stated the argument
in favor of an intelligent first cause—the wise
contriver of all the arrangements of the mate
rial world, as strikingly as it could be stated
in a whole volume :
THE DAISY.
Not worlds on worlds, in phalaux deep,
Need we tell a God is here ;
The daisy, fresh from winter’s sleep,
Tells of His hand in lines as clear.
That power, but His who arched the skies,
And poured the day-spring’s purple flood,
Wondrous alike in all it tries,
Could rear the daisy’s curious bud;
Mould its green cup, its wiry stem,
Its fringed border nicely spin.
And cut the gold-embossed gem
That, set in silver, gleams within ;
And fling it with a hand so free
O'er hill and dale and desert sod.
That man, where’er he walks, may sea,
In every stop, the stamp of God ’
Marshal Soclt.
The gallant Marshni was born on the 29th
of March, 1709. He entered the army in his
16th year. He first served under Hoche,then
Jourdan, and Lefebre. His first independent
command was when the invasion ot England
was determined on ; he was then placed over
the army encamped from Bonlogue to Calais.
After the vistory of Austerlitz Napoleon de
clared him to be the ablest tactician in the em
pire. Until he measured swords with the
Duke of Wellington, Marshal Soult’s career
had been uniformly brilliant.
On the late occasion of Marshal Soult’s visit
to the India House, it was observed that the
gallant soldier wandered through the rooms
with a listless and almost uninterested air,until
he suddenly found himself in the apartment in
which is bung an admirable picture of his late
distinguished master — Napoleon !
It was then the countenance of the Marshal
brightened with sudden animation. It was,
however, but momentary —be gazed upon the
picture—sighed most deeply, and turning, left
the apartment!
Although expressing himself pleased with
his reception, and sensible of the attention
with which he had been conducted through the
various rooms of the building, it was evident
that that faithful portrait had revived many a
scene of past and faded glory, many a painful
recollection, in the bosom of the brave soldier.
TURKISH WIT.
Nass-red-dyn, the Turkish, „Esop, wishing
to propitiate the conquering Tamerlane, pro
posed to carry him fruit. “Hold,” said he,
“two heads are better than one ; l will ask my
wife whether I had better carry quinces or
figs.” His wife replied. “Quinces will please
him best, because they are larger and finer.”
“ However useful the advice of others may
be,” rejoined Nass-red-dyn, “ it is never well
to follow that of a woman ; I am determined
to take figs.” When he arrived in the camp,
Tamerlane amused himself by throwing the
figs at his bald head. At every blow Nass
red-dyn exclaimed “ God be praised !” Ta
merlane inquired what he meant. “ I am
thanking God that l did not follow my wife’s
advice,” replied Nass-red-dyn, “for if I had
brought quinces instead of figs, I should cer
tainly have a broken head.”
EDITORIAL DIFFICULTIES.
The editor of the Christian Advocate and
Journal makes the following remark in his
last:—“ The difficulty ofselecting suitable ar
ticles for the paper, of disposing of written
communications so as to satisfy all parties,and
of writing an occasional editorial, is greater
than any human being, except an Editor or his
assistant can conceive."
SAM PATCH OUTDONE.
On Tuesday last about two miles below the
steamboat landing on the Genessee River, a
horse attached to a cart loaded with wood.was
precipitated from the bank, cart and all, to the
waters edge below, a distance of 75 foot,near
ly perpendicular, and after adjusting himself,
commenced browsing upon the shrubbery,
without having received the least apparent
injury.
THE MJELSTROM WHIRLPOOL.
Letter from a gentleman in Washington, to the Hon. A.
B. I vooduard, Judge of Middle Florida.
This wonderful phenomenon, that has exci
ted the wonder and astonishment ofthe world,
I have seen. There are few of my country
men who have had the opportunity, in conse
quence ofthe situation ofit being remote from
any port of commerce. Its latitude Ido not
exactly recollect. It is situated between two
islands, belonging to a group off the coast of
Norway, called the Low-in-Stuff Islands, be
tween Drot t'leim (being the most northern
point of commerce) and the North Cape. 1
suppose the latitude to be about 69 North, but
will not be certain.
I had occasion some years since to navigate
a ship from North Cape to Drontheim, nearly
all the way between the islands or rocks and
the main. On inquiring of my Norway pilot
about the practicability of running near the
whirlpool, he told me that with a good breeze
it could be approached near enough for exami
nation without danger. We began to near it
about 10 A. M. in the month ot September,
with a fine leading wind north-west. Two
good seamen were placed at the helm, and the
mate on the quarter deck, all hands at their
stations for working ship, and the pilot stand
ing on the bowspirit, between the night heads.
1 went on the maintopsail yard, with a good
glass. 1 had been seated but a few moments
when my ship entered the dish of the whirl
pool ; the velocity of the water altered her
course three points toward the centre, although
she was going eight knots through the water.
This alarmed me extremely; for a moment
I thought that destruction was inevitable. She,
however, answered her helm sweetly and we
ran along the edge, the waves foaming around
us in every form, while she was dancing gaily
over them. The sensations I experienced are
difficult to describe. Imagine to yourself an
immense circle, running round, of a diamater
of one and a half miles, the velocity increasing
as it approximated toward the centre, and
gradually changing its dark blue color to white
—foaming, tumbling, rushing to the vortex;
very much concave, so much so as the water
in a tunnel when half run out ; the noise too,
hissing, roaring, dashing—all pressing on the
mind at once, presented the most awful,grand,
solemn sight, 1 ever experienced.
We were near it about eighteen minutes,
and in sigVt of it about t*vo hours. It is evi
dently a subterranean passage, that leads—the
Lord knows where. From its magnitude I
should not doubt that instant destruction would
be the fate of a dozen of our largest ships,wtere
they drawn in at the same moment. The
pilot says that several vessels have been sunked
down, and that whales also have been destroy
ed. The first I think probable enough, but I
rather doubt the latter. Mitch. Herald.
QUICKSILVER MINE.
We are informed by Mr. Cooper, that in
boring a well near this place, through the soft
stone upon which this region of country is
based, his auger, at the distance of several
hundred feet from the surface, dropped into a
lake of quicksilver, fourteen feet and some
inches deep. Marengo Gnattlf.
ORIGINAL.
To the Editor of the Southern Post.
Dear Squire Pendleton —l take my pen
in hand once more to let you know that I am
still in the land of pumpkins and peas, down
here in Dooly, t.ougli in grett distress, a id
likely to remain so. One cause of this sad
state is, the not having time to write u ito you
these many days past. *A district magistrate
can scaicely find time to deal in Litcra.
lure, while dockets and warrants, and*sum.
mons, and executions, are in his head and on
his table. Often, when I turn my attention to
the interests of “ My Sadd'e-Bags,” in pops a
heartless suitor with, “ Have you issued that
execution yet,'’—“ Make haste and collect the
money, At. Ac.” Now, when I sometimes
mount my filley, by some called Pegasus, to
go up Parnassus—if, in the heat of the day,
when spurs are in her flanks, and hand upon
her foretop, such a sound should greet my
ears, I should sartinly let loose and tumble
down. Botheration and disappointmont have
karackterized all great men,especially, the Bar
lows, Milton, Otway, Pope, Dryden,Rowe,Con.
greve, Steele, and Chatterton, were poor cluq t,
chin deep in misery, and so is your humble ser
vant, W. Bonypart ; but, for all that, I shall
lift my head above tide, and show you that I an»
not quite “ caved in.” You will notice, tl at
I am thrown upon my own responsibilities.
Poor Mr. Snip has left our niggerhood, for n
more congenial clime, to teach young ideeia
how to root, so mine will have to root for then
-with just what clothing I can put on
them. 1 have mended mightily in spellir,
you will perseve, if my ideers are shod with
understands with a hat of moral on, they mi y
go without an oithogruffickkal coat or Retoriek
ruffle shirt. I have heard of pigs so poor,
that a brick hat had to be tied to their tnfls
when they went to root, to keep them from
pithchin over on their noses, perhaps I nay
need Mr. Snip to preserve my balance—if l
do, l can only suffer—what many in “ high
places” have suffered, when kabbinetts have
failed and counsils refused to indite public do
cuments fur the chieftain in power.
Your loving friend,
W. B. B.
EXTRACTS FROM MV SADDLE BAGS.
By W. Bonypart Barloic, Esq.
MY SERENADE SONG.
“ The moon is comin to her full—the flow,
ers o’er heath and heather are blushin in the
presence of the sweet Goddess, Spring—w< ep.
in at eve, the dew drops ofbeauty, as the day.
beam dies; so weepeth I, when my spring, my
sun,my life, dotli veil her face.” Such ideers
were in my head, and thus 1 expressed myself
on the eve before my twenty-first birth day.
I was in love, and the beauties of Spring, unit
ed with cnchantiu sweetness of the empress of
my heart’s affections, kindled a fervor ol do.
votiou upon the altar of a naturally aidant
soul, too mild and glowin to be extinguished
by trifles. To-morrow night, said I, w hen tho
moon is sheddin her silvery robes, and clothen
in brightness the misty clouds. I’ll go to the
bower of my love with strains of music, more
captivative than the symphonies of harp uul
timbrel and dulcimer. She was beautiful, and
her eyes were full ofthe languishin 'endeinos*
of love, gay in conversation. Yet, as the con
clusion will show, sometimes thoughtless ii
action. All night precedin the eve on which
I purposed to try the effect of vocal minstrelsy
upon the heart of my love. 1 bowed lowly
to my harp, and swept each st ingto find tUi
softest notes, that I might se id the deep toned
diapason thrilling to her soul. The day before 1
had composed the words—w* rds of rapluio
and hope, connected with the beautiful of na
ture, and the endearin influence of domestic
associations. “ Oh, for the mellow tones ot
the lute; the genius of Wordsworth, and tho
musical soul of Handel, to do a mighty deed
to-morrow night.” Thus craved I—but1 —but the
day which, indeed, planted me upon freedom’s
soil roll’d away, and the moon of eve rose
brightly in the Orient, as her king went down
to rest. The hour of stillness stood sentinel
upon the watch tower of eternity; I sallied
forth—no thoughts of midnight resurrection
entered my head—my soul w'as in love, and
hope, and painful anxiety. She slept in a
room at the end of a long piazza, and the win
dow w r as raised. I paused at the window, to
listen to the soft breathins of her heart —all
was still—no sound broke the hushed silence
ofthe midnight scene. With increasing con
fidence, I prepared to fling o’er hill and brake
the sound of enchantic music—l commenced:
Oh, wake love, oh wake !
The moon is up, and o'er the lake
Her trembling ray doth dance——
“Miss Susan,” said a nigger girl, sleepin in the
same room—“ Wake up, it’s day—don’t you
hear tha. chicken crowin ?” “ What ? who?”
said Susan, as l w as singinthe last line, “ No,
it’s a hog hitched somewhere.” This was a
damper—but when silence reigned, I com
menced again :
Oh wake love, oh wake!
The inoon is up, and o’er the lake
Her trembling ray doth dance ;
Oh conic love 1 we’ll roam
O’er the dew drops emerald home,
Now is your only chance,
Oh, I love thee, dear,
Oh wake up, then, I say, and hear
Thy lover’s song to-night.
My heart is your's, love,
lispuro as golden light above,
Awake, my soul's delight.
The steer doth not low,
The hens have gone to roost before
Tiiis time, I have no doubt,
The sheep are browsing
And the little lambs carousin,
And w*ag their tails about.
Splash—dash—oh, lordy ! ugh! ugh! right into
my'countenance came—it w an’t water of
amber nor oil of annis—nor did it come from a
china-ware pitcher. I pumped the bilge wa
ter from my nos;*, weighed anchor, and done
some ofthe tallest sailin ever seen about thoso
capes. I registed in my log-book ; “ vanity
and presumption will kill what little merit wc
have, and bring after them damping
consequences.”