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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