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POETRY.
From the Southern Literary Messenger.
GOD.
BV C. M. F- DEEMS.
His power —a word, and from tire deep
This earth, with beauty rife,
Shook off the incubus of sleep,
And started into life.
He spake: and radiant floods of light
Caine streaming o’er its gloom.
And sweetest flowers spread to the sight
The richness of their bloom.
It measured out the billowy sea,
It piled the mountain high ;
His power has caused the stars to be—
’Tis written on the sky.
His voice ! —when gently breathes the morn,
The voice of God is there ;
Its accents, too, are sofdy borne
Upon the evening air.
The deep-toned cadence of its wrath,
Speaks in the thunder’s roar,
When strides the storm-sprite o’er his path,
And shakes the trembling shore.
But, oh ! its deepest melody
Breaks on the troubled soul,
When first it sets the spirit free,
And makes the wounded whole.
His presence ! —if there were a spot
Os earth on which we dwell,
Where it were said that God is not,
That spot would be a hell.
His presence fills the heaven of heaven
With its supreme delight,
And from his dazzling throne is given
The glory of its light.
Creation quakes beneath His frown,
Worlds fly before his nod;
The boundless universe must own
The presence of its God.
MIS CELL AN Y.
From the Augusta Mirror.
the sodtii the natural home of literature.
“ Hear me for my cause.”
This is the age of startling theories and
strange hypotin ses. And it be may thought that,
in commencing with the proposition which
the title of my brief essay would seem to im
ply, that I am merely ambitious of following
in the train of those who would startle by some
strange hypothesis rather than instruct with
simple truth. It is possible that even a ma
jority of the citizens of tire south, from their
long habit of looking abroad for the materials
of mental cultivation and mental pleasures,
may turn an incredulous ear to him who
would show them that the south has within
herself eminent literary resources. And even
those who think most favorably of the mental
resources of the southern section of the Union,
may smile incredulously at the proposition,
that the south is the natural home of literature.
I complain not of this incredulity. It is but
natural that thoughts should flow in their wont
ed channel, and that he, who has bven long
accustomed to look to other sections of the
world for his mental resources, should be
startled at the thought of literary independ
ence. I merely ask a hearing. Nor do I
this with the hope of at once convincing. I
but wish and expect to throw out a few hints,
which may lead others to reflect, and, after
being duly weighed and considered, lend them,
perhaps, to a favorable view of a proposition
which I cannot but deem important.
The south is the natural home of literature.
She has ever been so. Homer strolled and
sung under the rays of a fervid sun. Italy
and Greece have, from their first waking into
being as civilized nations, afforded their poets
and their orators. The literary pilgrim ever
bends bis steps to the south of Europe, as his
most favored shrine. While there, fond memo
ries throng t> his mind of the epic strains of
Homer, the soothing measures of the Man
tuan Swan, the exulting odes of Horace, and
the biting sarcasms of Juvenal. While, in
later times, he clings to the memory of the
fearful strains of Danta, the epic measures of
the madman Tasso, the soft strains of Petrarch,
and the pleasing images of Boccacio. And
he fondly turns to the sisters of literature, ora
tory and the fine arts, as they recal to his
memory their favored sons, in the forms of
Demosthenes, Cicero, Biules, Rubens, Titian,
Rembrando, and a host of others. And while
thus fondly recalling to mind all these, he re
remembers that they drew their inspiration
from the fervid sun of Italy and Greece. lie
feels, in the balmy air he breathes, in the bril
liant heavens that form the canopy above him,
in the brilliancy of the sunsets that glow in the
horizon, in the tint that the air and clime
spread over the earth, the inspiration that
formed and developed the genius of those
whom he now so fondly regrets, and as, in his
musings, he calls to mind the efforts of the
literary giants of the North, he remembers
that they, too, drew their inspiration from the
spot on which he now stands. He remem
bers that Milton derived from Italy the plan of
his Paradise Lost, and that he is indebted to
Dante for many of the most striking passages
and illustrations of his great poem. He re
members that the classic pages of the Specta
tor were tinged with much of the Italian hue;
that much of their inteicst was drawn from the
illustrations they derived from classic Italy.
He reflects that, even at the present day, Italy
and Greece are sought as the land of inspira
tion by many of the most popular writers of
the age. And he knows that Italy has not
ceased to inspire her own sons, even at this
day. He finds, in the productions of the
cloistered monks much lo admire, and sees
that even the secluded cells of that fervid clime
afforcUeoDtributions to literature, which would
be admired wherever the lovers of literature are
found, were their authors ambitious enough to
make them generally known.
Such food for inspiration does the literary
pilgrim find on the classic shores of Italy and
Greece, and under the fervid sun of the south-
And is it possible that a kindred clime in a
western hemisphere presents no parallel to
this ? Do the same sun, the same brilliancy
of the cinopyof clouds, the same glorious
sunsets, the same rich tints upon the land.
ilpttt fjmt Hf
BY 1\ C. PENDLETON.
VOL. 11.
! scape, afford no inspiration there ? A wilder,
a more abrupt scenery than Italy or Greece
Scan boast, speak in living tones to their behold
ers. While with these, an Italian softness of
landscape upon the Ashley, the Savannah, and
other favorite streams, glorious waterfalls and
streaming cascades, are every where claiming
their worshippers, in those who dwell among
them. And do all these afford no inspiration I
They do inspire. They have spoken in the
i eloquent tones of the Rutledges and Pinkneys
of the Revolution. They have spoken in the
polished pages of a Grimke. They are now
speaking in the strains of a Charlton, a Gilmer,
a W-lde, a Simms, and in the faithful scenes
of a Longstreet. Aye, more, they are speak
ing in the thousand of the young, who cast
back to the mountains, the water-falls and the
streams, their inspiration, in living tones, and
whose wild songs, through rare publications,
; sometimes startle the public ear. They do
speak in these thousand, who, if once the south
became the literary people they should become,
would astonish the world by their eloquent
tones. Such incitements of climate and
scenery as the south presents, cannot speak
in vain. Her sons need but encouragement
to speak out, and the inspiration of southern
skies and southern scenes, would at once be
fel; by the world. Nor does the south lack
for inspiration in her historic incidents. What
wilder scenes for the strains of the minstrel, or
| the tales of the legendary, could there be than
the wild career of the Huguenot settlers of
Carolina, the hardships of the followers "of
Smith, the harassed course of Oglethorpe, or
the changing state of the early settlers of
Louisiana afford ? What greater scenes of
interest could there be than those in the paral-
I lei history of the Aborigines ?—in the fate of
| the peaceful Watchely, the melancholy career
of the noble Pocahontas, or in the fate of those
who are but now preparing to leave our bor
ders? Such is the food for inspiration the
south presents in her climate, her scenery,
and her historic incidents. They wll not al
ways, nor do they now, speak in vain.
But it is not on the natural incitements of
climate and scenery alone, that I ground my
belief of the future distinction of the south as
a literary people. But this belief is more
especially founded on the leisure and oppor
tunity for mental cultivation, that her domestic
institutions afford so large a portion of her
citizens. No part of the world affords so
large a population with so much leisure as the
planters of the south enjoy. Where will you
look elsewhere for the parallel to this—for so
large a class of citizens, enjoying so large a
portion of ease ? Is it among the merchants,
the mechanics, the farmers or the professional
men of the north ? Is it in any class of any
country in Europe? The aristocracy of Eng
land may, perhaps, enjoy as much ease; but
how small a class are they, compared with the
remaining portion of the population. The
scholars of Germany are devoted to learning;
but they are like dust in the balance, when '
compared with the number of those devoted
to other pursuits. France, Italy, and the re
maining countries of Europe, have all their
men of leisure, but in all of them the number
is trifling indeed, when compared with the
number of citizens without leisure. The south
ern states of this confederacy present the un
paralleled spectacle of a country whose main
population are a class at ease. The south
alone presents the singular feature of a peo
ple (for the planters are emphatically the peo
ple of the south) possessing abundant leisure
and means for mental cultivation.
This leisure and these means foi mental cul
tivation cannot, in the nature of things, al
ways remain unimproved. The south must
take the place among nations that her climate, j
her scenery, and the advantages her institu
tions afford her —so plainly point to her as
her proper place. And this place is the first
among the nations of the earth. She must
become to the world, in anew era, what
Greece was to the world in the old. ** Her
merchants are princes,” was the eloquent
praise applied to a nation of the East. With
how much justice may we say that the plan
ters of the south may, in a nobler sense, be
stiled princes ! Every planter may, to some
extent, become an Augustus. He has the
leisure to devote to the productions of litera
ture, and the means to call them forth. The
finger of destiny, then, points to the south as
the literary centre from which must radiate an
influence, that shall illuminate the world. And
this influence must be a shield against all at
tacks upon her institutions. This influence
will itself be an answer to all objections, and
will arm her at all points. She will then st ind
forth in her proper light, too formidable to be
assailed. Rambler.
aphorisms.
When an editor undertakes to write down
his neighbour, he had better take care he does
not go right down himself.
There are some persons connected with the
press who think because they are permitted to
print, they are privileged to insult.
In the good old days of Queen Bess, an un
assailed author was considered a nobody.
Attacks, squibs and lampoons were much in
requisition. They were the penalty paid for
popularity. Even at the present time, where
theic is no praise there is no censure.
It is not an uncommon circumstance that
the best men in a community arc most vir
ulently assailed by scribblers; as boys will
throw stones at the best apples upon the tree.
Few-York Mirror
DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, INTERNAL IMPROVEMENT, COMMERCE. AGRICULTURE
FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC NEWS, AMUSEMENT. &c. Ac.
TERMS . IIIKLL DOLLARS} IA ADVANCE—FOI R DOLLARS} AFTER THREE MONTHS.
MACON, (Ga.) SATURDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 17, 1838.
FRATERNAL affection.
If friendship be delightful, if it be above all!
delightful to enjoy the continued friendship of
those who are endowed to us by the intimacy
of many years, who can discourse with us of
the frolics of the school, of the adventures and
studies of the college, of the years when we
first ranked ourselves with men in the free
society of the world; how delightful must be
the friendship of those who accompanying us
through all this long period, with closer union
than any casual friend, can go still farther
back, from the school to the veiy nursery'
which witnessed our common pastimes; who
have had an interest in every event that has
related to us, and in every person that has
excited our love or our hatred ; who have
honored with us those to whom we have paid
every filial honor in life, and wept with us over
those whose death has been to us the most
lasting sorrow of our hearts ! Such, in its
wide, unbroken sympathy, is the friendship
of considered even as friendship;
only ; and how many circumstances of addi-,
tionnl interest does this union receive from the
common relationship to those who have origi-!
nal claims to our still higher regard, and to
whom we owe an acceptable service, in ex
tending our affection to those whom they love !
Every dissention of man with man, excites in
us a feeling of painful incongruity. But we
feel a peculiar melancholy in the discord of
those, whom one roof has continued to shelter
during life, and whose dust is afterwards to be
mingled under a single stone.
witchery of polish ladies.
Mr. Stephens thus pleasantly concludes a
narrative of a series of perplexities to which he
was subjected, on arriving at a small town in
Poland, called Ruddoin, hy consequence of the
character of his passport being doubted bx the
learned functionaries of that place :
I was ushered into the presence of an elder
ly lady and her two daughters, both of whom
spoke Frencli. 1 apologized lor my intrusion ,
told them my extreme anxiety to go on that
night, and begged them to procure someone
to take the governor’s order to the comman
dant ; in fact I had become nervous, and did
not consider myself sale till out of the place.
They called in a younger brother, who started
with alacrity oil the errand, and i sat down to
wait his return. There must he a witchery
j about Polish ladies. I was almost savage
.against all mankind : I had been kept up to the
extremest point of indignation without an op
portunity of exploding all day, and it would
have been a great favor lor someone to knock
me down; but in a few minutes all,my bitter
ness and malevolence melted away, and be
fore tea was over I forgot that I had been
bandied all day from pillar to post, and even
forgave the boors who had mocked me, in con
sideration of their being tiie countrymen of the
ladies who were showing me such kindness.
Even with them I began with the chafed spirit
that had been goading me all day; but when 1
listened to the calm and sad manner in which
they replied ; that it was annoying, but it was
light, very light, compared with the scenes
through which they and ail their friend? had
passed, I was ashamed of my petulance.
A few words convinced me that they were the
Polcys ofmy imagination and heart. A widow
ed mother and orphan children, their staff and
protector had died in battle, and a gallant
brother was then wandering an exile in France.
I believe it is my recollection of Polish ladies
that gives me a leaning towards rebels. I
never met a Polish lady who was not a rebel,
and I could but think, as long as the startling
notes of revolution continue to full like music
from their pretty lips, so long the Russian will
sleep on an unquiet pillow in Poland. It was
more than an hour before the brother returned,
and I was sorry when he came, for, after my
professions of haste, I had no excuse for re
maining longer. I was the first American
they had ever seen; and if they do not remem
ber me for any thing else, I am happy to have
disabused them of one prejudice against my
country, for they believed the Americans were
black. At parting, and at my request, the
eldest daughter wrote her name in my memo
randum hook, and I bade them farewell.
a random truth.
We met with the following very just remark
in one of the periodicals of the day:—“ln
nine cases out of ten—we speak of the pre
sent day—it is not veal talent and literary merit
which lay the foundation of an author’s future
fortunes. There are many Bulwers, many
De Balzacs, many Moores, many De Lamar
tines, many Lyells, and many Cousins, lan
guishing in obscurity at this moment. Acci
dent, a publisher’s favour, a lucky hit, or pecu
; niary resources, through the aid of which a
first work has been printed, are the prima
.mobilia of literary success and literary for
tunes.”
PHRENOLOGICAL.
At a late meeting of the “ Mudfog Associa
tion for the advancement of everything,” a
learned member exhibited to the company the
skull of Eugene Aram when a school-boy, and
another gentleman presented another skull of
the same individual when at a more advanced
age. The innocence of the boy, contrasted
with the criminality of the murderer, as clearly
developed in the two existing heads, was highly
corroborative ofthe incontrovertibility ofskuli
ology. An illiterate bystander, who interrup
ted the meeting by ini|)crtineiitly asking, “how
Eugene Aram came to have two skulls?” was
immediately tuken into custody and lodged in
the county goal.
GLOOMY AND MELANCHOLY THOUGHTS.
There is one sort of guests who are no
strangers to the mind of man; of an English,
man, it is said, above others. These are
gloomy and melancholy thoughts. There are
times and seasons, when to some every thing
appears dismal and disconsolate, though they
know not why. A black cloud hangs hover,
ing over tkeii minds ; which, when it falls in
showers through their eyes, is dispersed ; and
all is serene again. This is often purely me
chanical and owing either to some fault in the
bodily constitution, or some accidental disor
der in the animal frame. It comes on in a
dark month, a thick sky, and an east wind;
it may be owing in part to our situation as
islanders, and in part to the grossness and
heaviness of our diet, attended as it frequently
is among those of a better condition, who are
chiefly subject to this malady, with the want of
a due degree of exercise and labor. In this
case, the advice of an honest physician may
Ire of eminent service. Constant employment
and a cheerful friend are two excellent reme
dies. Certain, however, it is, that whatever
means can be devised, they should be instantly
and incessantly used to drive away such drea
ry, desponding imaginations ; for to admit and
indulge them, would be as if one was to quit
the warm precincts of day, to take leave of
life and sun, and to pass one’s time amidst the
damps and darkness of a funeral vault. Our
faculties, in such circumstances, would be be
numbed, and we should soon become, our
selves, useless to ail the purposes of our being,
like the inhabitants of the tomb, who sleep in
death * Bishop Horne.
RUSSIAN BAPTISM NO JOIE.
It is always performed by immi rsion. In
the rich houses) two tables are laid out in the
drawing-room, hy the priest; one is covered
with holy images, on the other is placed an
enormous silver basin, filled with water sur
rounded by small wax tapers. The chief
priest begins by consecrating the font, and
plunging a silver cross repeatedly in the water:
he then takes the child, and after reciting cer.
tain prayers, undresses it completely. ~ The
process of immersion takes place twice, and
so rigorously, that the head must disappear
under the water, the infant is then restored
to its nurse, and the sacrament is finally ad.
ministered. In former times, when a child
had the misfortune to be born in winter, it was
plunged without pity under the ice, or into
water of the same temperature. In the pre
sent day, that rigor has been relaxed by per.
mission of the church, and warm water sub
stituted for the other ; but the common people
still adhere scrupulously to the ancient prac
tice in all seasons. On these occasions, nunr
bers of children are baptised at the same time
on the ice, and the cold often proves fatal to
them. It sometimes happens, also that a child
slips through the hand of the priest, and is lost,
in which case he only exclaims “ God has
been pleased to take this infant to himself;
hand me another ;” and the poor people sub
mit to their loss without a murmur, ns thedis
pensation of Heaven. * a iku’s City of the Czar.
The Yankee Traveller, who saw the live|
Iloosier, has written another letter to his mo-J
ther. lie says—“ Western people go theirJ
death on etiquette. You can’t tell a man here
that he lies, as you can down east, without;
fighting. A few days ago, a man was telling
two of his neighbors, in my hearing a pretty
large story. Says I, “ stranger, that’s a whap. [
per!” Says he, “ Lay there, stranger!” And
in the twinkling of an eye, I found myself in
the ditch, a perfect quadruped, the worse for
wear aad tear. Upon another occasion, says!
I to a man I never saw before, as a woman j
passed him. “ That isn’t a specimen of your
Western women, is it?” Says he, “You are
afraid of the fever and ague, stranger, a’nt
you?” “Very much,” says I. “ Well,” re
plied he, “that lady is my wife, and if you
don’t apologize, in two minutes, by the honor
of a gentleman, I swear that these two pistols,
(which he held cocked in his hands) shall curej
you from that disorder entirely ; so don’t fear,|
stranger?” So I knelt down and apologized.!
I admire this Western country much; but
curse me if I can stand so much etiquette; it
always takes me so unawares.”
DEATH OF THE MALE GIRAFFE.
The New-York Era has the following no
tice of a serious loss to the interests of natural
history : “ The beautiful male GirafFee, recent
ly arrived in this city from Alexandria, Egypt,
died suddenly yesterday morning immediately
after feeding, w ithout exhibiting any previous
illness. This is the only male Giraffe ever
brought to this country, and its loss perhaps,
will not be replaced for many years to come.
It was several feet taller than the females ex
hibited previously, and enjoyed the greatest
apparent health up to the moment of its death.
It is supposed that poison had been adminis
tered to the animal, and several medical gentle
men were yesterday engaged in analysing the
contents of its stomach. The result we have
not learned. It is to be hoped, if such has been
the cast:, that the wretch who could have the
baseness to wantonly destroy such a noble
creature, may be ferrvtted out and brought to
punishment.”
Banditti.— ln Portugal, a notorious and
terrible bandit, named Remichiddo, has been
captured, and his men defeated and dispersed.
The chief was executed. His son is said to
be equally during and dangerous with himself,
and promises to avonge his father’s death.
|cr_ K. IIANLEITER, PRINTER.
fragments.
Courage. —The boldness of the
attacksof profame people upon religion should
sharpen t Fi<- courage of its friends and advo
cates. \,^ r hen vice is daring, it is no time for
virtue to L*«e sneaking. Matthew Henry.
rmness. —Upon the Church there
never yet a tempestuous storm, the vipots
whereof v*- ere not first noted to rise from cold
ness in a Ejection, and from backwardness in
duties of towards Clod.” Hooker.
I’uncli^^gliit/, —Punctuality is important as it
gains
a good pa.c= ker will get in half as much more as
a bad one. Cecil.
Use of~ Time. —Be diligent: never be un.
employed never be triflingly employed.
Never any time; neither spend any more
time at ail plate than is strictly necessary.
John Wesley.
Ilospilc* &it\). —Hospitable man may not only
entertain c^.ngeh, (Heb. xm. 2,) but Christ
himself; feixr we receive him when we receive
his poor s«»_ ints. Calvin.
Tempttt e Von.—He forced him not; he touch
ed him not z he only said “ Cast thyseff down,”
that wenxsny know, that whosoever obeyeth
the devil, himself down, for the devil
may suggest, compel he cannot.
Su Chrysostom.
Late Steadies. —A late morning student is a
lazy one, c*.*id will rarely make a true scholar;
andhewhc». sitsuplate at night, not only burns
his life’s csund'eat both ends, but puts a red
hot poker tc_> the middle. Adam Clarke.
the Pythagoreans at any
time broke- out into any opprobrious language
they used before sunset, to give one another j
their and with them a discharge from !
all injuries, *ndso with a mutual reconciliation,
parted frier*ids. Plutarch. See Ephesians,
iv, 26.
Money. Wealth is the goddess whom all
the world w <orshippeth. There is many a city
inourempi *—e, of which, with an eye of apostoli
cal discern it msy be see”., that it is til. j
most wlioll -w given to idol itrv. Isa man looks'
no higher t lian to his money, for his enjoy,
ments, tlier i money is his God. Chalmers.
Ah! glo *—y of the hero of this world, pro
fane paneg^.-rics, inscriptions conceived in high
swelling w-*__jrds of vanity', superb trophies, I
diadems, fitter to serve as an amusement to i
children thE*n to engage the attention of rea
sonable mer» ! what have ye, once to be com
paved with the acclamations and with the
crowns prep*ared for the Christian hero?
Os most <z*thcr thing? it may lie said, “ Vuni
ly of vanities, all is vanity;” but of the Scrip
turcs,“Vcr~i ty of verities, ail is verity.”
Brown b r-«ad, with the gospel, is good fare.
A weepir* countenance and a wounded
spirit are merest beautiful prospects to the eye of
heaven; wl i*ju a broken heart pours out re
penting tea* —s, like streams from the rock,
smitten hy 11 ag rod of Moses’ law in the hand of
a Mediator.
APrAKATt'S TOR EDITING AND PUBLISHING A
Jt-ON'DOX NEWSPAPER.
Every L<9» ndon newspaper of the first cla-s
has:—-“An editor, with a yeaily salary of
from jEfiOO to £1000; a sub-editor with a
yearly salary of from £4OO to 000 ; from ten
tofourteen nes-gular reporters, paid from four to
six guineas from thirty to thirty-five
compositors in the printing office; several
persons to resold and correct the proof's ; a cer
tain number- of men and bovs to attend the
printing a publisher and sub-pub
lislier; a nu ■ Tiber of clerks in the office to re
ceive adverti >»cmcnts and keep accounts ; and
various other— individuals engaged in subordi
nate duties. The cost of reporting generally
amounts to l* gpwards of £3.000 yearly. The
salaries paid weekly to editors, reporters and
others, do no T fall short of JCI3O. Add the
expenses of reporting, the cost of
foreign newspapers, and corresjiondents, and
the sums pnici for expresses, Arc. &c., and the
total weekly expenditures can be hardly esti
mated under __JE*2SO or £13,000 per annum—
about sixty tliruusand dollars.
Le Chape de Faille. —An amusing in
stance of the talundersofour transatlantic con
temporaries contained in the following no
tice in the L<»ndon Court Journal.
Her Majesty looked unusually well, and ap
peared to be in excellent health and spirits.
Her Majesty wore, on this occasion, the ele
gant hat-lato ly sent to her by the state of
Massachusetts^; through their honorable repre
sentative. Car® King, Esq., which came by the
Great Westex—n. This truly beautiful hat is
made of a g i —ass peculiar to that state, called i
June grass, ox* account of its springing up and
decaying in t U*at month. The hat was univer
sally admired by all the ladies in attendance
on her majesty, who very graciously allowed
each of them t try it on, they' all expressing a
great desire to avail themselves of the first op
portunity they— ever had of wearing an Ameri
can hat. \V r calculate, as brother Jonathan
would say, tha at, if the hats usually worn in
the state us Miaissachusctts are all as handsome
as the one sea t_ to her Majesty, the young ladies
must bo wortl m looking at.
SOCIETY.
Nooncthir* g living in society can be inde
pendent. world is like a watch-dog,
which fawns o xa you or tears you to pieces.
A * HIGH FLOWN* NEGRO.
I was joined by George Edward Fitz Au
gustus Seaton, a colored man, who discharged
the functions of waiter at the City Hotel. Ho
informed me that he was going to market * for
de special object,’ as he declared, of purchas
ing wegetables and other animal matter for de
immediate consumption of ade establishment.
Having nothing better to do, I agreed to ac
company George Edward F tz Augustus, and
we accordingly set off for Catharine Market.
When we arrived at that depot of natural ani
mate and inanimate productions, my compan
ion walked up to the wagon of a fat country,
man, and after peering for some time at his
stock, inquired, ‘if dose were good taters!’
* ’ -s, Sir.* responded the countryman.
‘ A tater resumed George Edward Fitz
Augustus, ‘is inevitably bad, unless it is in
wariably good. Dcre is no mediocrity in do
combination of a tater. De exterior may ap
pear remarkably exemplary and beautisome,
while de interior is totally negative. But, Sir,
if you wends de article upon yourown recom
mendation, knowingyouto be a man of proba
bility in your transactions, I without any further
circumlocution takes a bushel!’
George Edward now passed to the stall of a
dealer in eggs and butter, and taking a quarter
of a dollar from his vest pocket, commenced
an inspection ofthe latter commodity. ‘You
call dat good butter?’ demanded he with a
disagr -cable expression upon his countenance,
as if an ill flavor suddenly inhaled.
‘ Yes, Sir, 1 do—as good butter as comes to
this or any other place.’
‘ Wlat do you tink about axing for dat
butter ?’
‘ Twenty-five cents.’
* Twenty-five cents! And do you suppose,
for de moment, dat your butter extensifys to
such extreme walution?—nasty, rancid stuff,
churned over forde’easion !—old butter reno
vated !’—said the indignant George Edward,
moving off'; ‘ but dat’s de kind of nigotiation
I frequently meets with in dis market!’
Knickerbocker.
Spinning Flax by Machinery. —A gen
tleman in New Jersey thinks he lias accom
plished the end so long and so laboriously
sought for, of bringing flax into a condition
to he spun like cotton. We have seen sam
ples of the flax in its nine or ten different
stages, until it is reduced to a short staple ma
terial very much resembling cotton. We
have also seen thread, spun from flax so pre
pared on common cotton machinery, and it
appeared well. The inventor thinks he can
produce linens as cheap as cottons. The
whole process, beginning with the flax in stalk,
is performed w.thout water-rotting, and occu
pies but a day or two. If there is no mistake
| about the matter, and we do not perceive any,
the invention approximates towards Whitney’s
cotton-gin in importance.
The beauty of a Chinese woman consists in
the smallness of her eyes and feet, the projec
tion of her lips, and the scarcity of her hair,
which must be black to lie of any value, and
j the most elegant personage amonst the men,
1 is the one who can boast of the greatest super
abundance of flesh, and he must be corpulent
or he cannot be respected. “ Thin of body,
thin of mind,” is a Chinese adage, and a poor,
j lank, studious looking chap, would be driven
from Chinese society as the most ignorant of
his species.
bachelors.
An English publication contains the follow
ing just remarks relating to certain useless
members ofthe community. ‘A man who
passes through life without marrying, is like a
fair mansion left hy the builder, unfinished.
The half that is completed runs to decay fiom
neglect, or Incomes at best, but a sorry tene
ment, wanting the addition of that which
makes the whole useful. Your bachelor is
only the moiety of a man—a sort of garnish
for a dish—or a prologue to a play—or a bow
—without theJiddle /’
On the maxim that “every man’s house is
his castle,” Lord Chatham made the following
beautiful remarks:—The poorest may, in his
cottage, bid defiance to all th 3 forces of the
crown. It may be frail—its roof may shake—
the wind may enter—but the king of England
cannot enter! All his power dare not cross
the threshhold of that rui led tenemeut!”
a beautiful thought.
One of our brother editors very wisely says
that, if beauty be woman’s weapon, it must bo
feathered hy the Graces, pointed by the eye
of Discretion and shot by the hand of Virtue,
AQUATIC.
The Georgia Aquatic Club has taken up a
challenge from New-York to row a match
with boats thirty-five feet long—five thousand
dollars beside being the wager proposed. The
secretaries have been ordered to arrange tlie
terms.
Do not heal any wound from the bite ofa
dog, mad or not; keep it open three months—
it is the healing of the wound that concentrate*
and confines the poison.
A pretty young white Quakeress ran away
with a colored mail, from Winchester, Pa.,
a short time since, and took lodgings in New
York. The happy pair are now in the hands
of the police.
The London Courier says that in conse
quence of the interference of the magistrates,
Mr. Van Amburgh’s proposed assention with
the royal tiger, in a bal on, was not allowed to
take place.
Tiiere are upwards of fifty millions of yards
of various fabrics manufactured at Lowell,
annually.
The more sides a man Ikis to his mind, the
more certain he is of receiving blows on all of
them from one party or other.
a Dutchman’s elegy.
I sere lias mine pubes so dead as nils,
Voi Got has kilt mit ague tits,
He would not let ’em stay mit me,
But took 'em home to stay mit he.
NO. 1