Newspaper Page Text
sireJ thus publicly to bear my testimony to the
truth, and in doing so. i may say w ill propr.cty
in tne language of anotl.e , •• whc'.lier men "
believe or vv..cli;erthey will r.ot Lea eve. is l.ot
stiietlv my personal concern, but my ii.teuiio::.
that no man take.h fiom me.
31 IS C E L L A N V .
From the Augusta Mjror.
MENTAL CULTIVATION.
st cHar.i-K v.-yarx sice. xrri.R of -rambler.’
“ the image c: his maker.”
Amid the beaut
and writers of the re tin o: L .zubeth. air. ; t. e
classic essa vs of A .id »on and ic t e.ti.e ...Lon-u
productions of Johnson, and the fairy dreams
of Goldsmith, or even in me w orks oi t;.e ; o
neers of literature in our own com try, 1 re
member no d.rect essay on Meat .IC’i: t.vat.on.
All seem to have tieen content to cue t e
reader to gather fiom t..e pleasures l.e . erne
from their works, tne be t argument for such
a cultivation of mind as would en.-ib'c him.
fullv to appreciate the beauty of their images
and sentiments. Spenser wove the golden
tlinad of fancy, and revelled in the [.leasing
images of his own brain, but paused not to in
form the reader that his imagination must lit
cultivated and his taste improved, before ho
could glory in tl e same images. Shakes [ care
pictured the stages of life and portrayed man
to man, but stopped not to inform Ins hearers
that these beautiful creations were only for
those whose minds grovelled not w itli the
common heard. Tiliotson c reated his models
of composition, but inforo ed not his hearers
that they would be appreciated only by kin
dred spirits of after ages. Addison reformed
and'elevated Ins nation but did not assure his
readers that the true admirers of his genius
and style of writing, w ould be found only in
the cultivated minds of after years. Gold
smith painted the sad beauties of the “ Deserted
Village,” but informed not his renders that he
painted only for the refined of intellect. A
Hemans has sung the “ Homes of Kngland,”
but has not paused to tell her admirers that the
true beauties of those homes were only to be
appreciated by cultivated minds. All t iese
have left the leader to find by his own expe
rience, that the pleasures of the mind are to
be enjoyed only by those who have entered
the true portal, by those only, who by reading
and study, have fitted their minds for com
inunion with the great and refined of all ages.
Still there may he occasions for speaking di
rectly. Something may perhaps be gained by
direct appeals where that which is hut implied,
would lie passed by mi not cod. 1 could w ish
that all to whose observation these brief and
simple remarks may come would give them
a serious perusal; but neither time nor labor
will he cast away, if but a few can be induced
to reflect upon the power and pleasures af
forded by mental cultivation.
In reviewing the orders of creation we be
*ho!d them rise one a hove another, and remov
ed! from each other, us Heaven in its wisdom
has seen fit to endow them with a greater or
Jess derive of intellect. Tiie sponge is by
Jinny supposed to be an animal, and it cleaves
,seu-c!css to its rock. Tue ovster and ti.e ci ab,
sho.v but the smallest signs of perception.
The ox that grazes in the field, and ploughs
• ortiy from the impulse of the goad, is inferior
to the dog that serves its master liut .fu.iv, and
does many acts of service fiom its own will.
The dog is inferior to tin higher orders of the
monkey trilie, that resemblance in ».;«■.r form
a id habits, in many resjieets, the human race.
Tne dog vv.ll control t ,e ox, and the Ourang
outnng will make itself a master of the dog,
anil man vv.ll guvr n all.
As it is in thejlowcr classes of the animal
creation, so it is in the higher, in the race of
man. Man is distin ii '.ied (rout his li-llow,
by the greater oi less cultivation of his mental
powers. He who treads t.ie earth insensible,
and is in Ins tastes and pursuits only •assimila
te J to the animal, of who e nature lie partakes,
is as much inferior to the man of mental culti
vation. as the oyster to t e dog or horse. lle
indeed wears the human form divine, hut is in
eveiy important respect, a different and in
ferior being to him of mental cultivation.
M m rises .above his fellow a. brute rises above
brute. Tne man of no mental refinement
holds in the scale of the human nice the lowest
rank, whi e he of a little, rises next übovi him,
and lie ofihe next degree takes the next [dace,
and thus on, until we come to him, who of
gigantic mental powers and cultivation, stands
superior to, and rules the whole.
Cunnce once culled me to an immense meet- j
ing of men, the residents of ;i large city
Tney had bueti culled together bv the sudden
intelligence of something which they deemed
an aggression on their rights by the govern
ment. They lmd met with infuriated spirits,
and the orators who had addressed them, had
added fury to the flame. They were in a stale
of seemingly uncontrolahle excitement. Rage
appeared in every look and every word.
They were ripe for tumultuous action. In a
few moments the government offices of tiie
city would have been levelled with the ground.
But at the moment, at which the rage of the
multitude was at its highest pitch, a man of
peace arose. Hisses and groans alone at first
received him ; but gradually the tumult was
calmed. The multitude became less infuriated
and the commotion was stilled. With a kin
dretl power to that, which sai I, “ let there be
light, and there was light,” he said, let there
he |>eace, and there was peace. There was
the silence of the grave, where but a moment
before was the roar of the cataract. And how
was this? How was the rage of the multi
tude, which exceeded! that of the roaring lion,
sosuddenly stilled ? It was by the superiority 1
of intellect, by the power of mind controlling
its weakness. The orator may have been
born with a like intellect with his fellows.
Aye, more, there may have been those in that
crowd who were born with superior intellecls
to himself; there may have been men in that
assembly, whose minds in their original forma
tion, were, when compared with his. like the
form of the giant compared to that of the
pigmy. He litid studied. lie had read his
own mind and that of his fellows, lie had
learned their weak [joints, titid found where
they were suscept.i !-•■ of attack. Thus he bail
become the ruler of his Flows. He could
or •til! die tumult of their passions. As
i- the sea in the hard ot ti e A m ghty. so wa
t. e multitude ill in> grasp, a waves! to and t.o
a: his vv.
Did we tce l furtier confirmation of ti.e
rower ctio: led by mental cun.vat on, we
»• ex • <<. \V ho
m >.-t readily moulds as to his will, a ; < >
■ Is . v ntei’.cct sii.ni.
fieri, vv .o i'eli not tiiud.llcrei.ce tne A mig.uy
i ter. led should be between him m.d the brute
Or is it Le. who lias won our re>[ect by Ins
mental acquirements. who by study has found
: • ,ey to our m nds, an Iby thou; :
learned the pro <->s Iv which we may be
nioiMi dto Ins w ? Or w.:o influences the
-oclttv iii which we move ? l.e brutal man
J to whom cur foot Cou.d be no eontannuat o.i.
]or he vv o st.n. < f.r above his ie .ows m i.:>
mental en iowmcits ?
I al i nta! t mlity.
Ast' ealmu ty It formed the tires of men
of dilli it eights, so as I . :t c r
miitd-i ofd'ffi rent ca;: c :.«•<. B<t : : l.e b -;
made the different 1 eights ofu.cn no obstacle
tu tl i ir 1 eing !ovt I and ccted, so lias Ile
i»t»< inntlc Drotr uiiieiout onpucitii’ ♦ n l>t»r to their
gaining influence and love, lie has made
man the architect of his own fortune. And
r. i r. r ..< i• He hr,-, rend .
j ed him accountable for his actions, so has He,
by giving him t e capacity of improvement,
in: de him accountable for ti e influence he
; exerts upon his fi hows. The capacity for
iie; rovement is t .«• get of the Creator to man.
By it. he may r -e to the height he chooses
among his compeers. If then, he pleases to
grovel in the dust, to lie assimilated to the
brutes of the field, to lose Ids high inheritance,
and be a cypher in society, he has but himself
to blame. Emu sold Ids birthright for a mess
of pottage. Was be mad ? If so, the very j
demon of insanity must possess him, who for j
the mere pleasures of the brum, or from the ;
indolence of his disposition, sacrifices the li gli |
prerogative given him by his Maker to become
a light and blessing to his fellows.
It is a beautiful theory of existence, but no
less true than beautiful, that the Almighty has
indissolubly connected man’s highest happi
ness with the performance of his duty. And
as by giving man the power of mental cultiva
tion, He has made it his duty thus to exalt
himself, so has He connected with the cultiva
tion of the intellect man’s highest pleasure.
Providence in its wisdom, hits made this the
key to all those higher pleasures which man
in his elevated nature is capable of enjoying.
This is the key that opens the portal to the
communion of mind with mind, that enables
us to commune with the great and noble spirits
of all ages, that unfolds to us the sympathies
of our fellows—enables us to delight in the
pure and simple affections of the child, and
reveals to us the beauties and grandeur of
nature,
Mental cultivation enables us to commune
with the great and noble spirits of all ages.
Not for the uncultivated ofintelleet did Homer
■ i.g the p«-i\. • ami acli.even cuts of the Gre
iii mid Ti .Not for ti em eld
\ irg.l weave ti.e fortunes ofihe filial .Eneas,
or sing hi lovi . p florals. Not for the gross
of mind did Dante, descend to the log ons of
tlic damned and po tray the various punish
ments of the v r < and : rimes of man ; not for
them did Ta*so po tray t/e glories of ** Jeiusa
lerri Delivered, ’ or Ix eoim the Kn gilt of the
swo.d and pen. Not for the unrefined did
I’etracli weave hi> lov' ly measuios, or I’ocacio,
form Ins pleasing images. Not for such did
•Sj wise weave ins vva I roinnunts, or Joosoii
form ins wit and frit,on. Not for such did
Simla's; care revel in the charms of nature and
the imagination, or Milton form the grand
etc t o.is of his divi e poem. Not for these
di I Scott frame Ins trad nous of “olden time,”
or lletnatis sing the triumph of the flections
of the heart. Nor for the unrefined do the
poets and novelist ; of the present day, weave
the creations of their fancy. Ti.e mind must
be elevatcJ to soar with Pereivul on his eagle I
wings, or revel with BaKver in the beauti'id
creations of his mind. It is but die cultivated !
mind that can commune with the cnlighted of
all ages.
“But b!c-t the wanderer whose enthusiast mind
Each lima- of am ieut days h-eh deep imbued
i;h lohy lo e ; ami ail his thouL’hls refined
In ti." calm school o s .i nt t litude ;
And in Ins ,-oul in.cll.hly portrayed
Fair v o fid each cl sic shade.
Is not lus mind to meaner thoughts unknown,
A sanctuary ofheauty and of light ?
But it the cultivation of our minds enables
us to hold communion with the master spirits
oi till ages, it in no less degree enlarges our
[sympatnies with our follow men of every
grade of intellect. VYe become hotter ac
quainted with their whole nature, and sympa
thise more fully " tii all their wants and de-
sires. We delight in every mark ofintelleet
they exhibit, while we sympathise more fullv
with till their weaknesses and follies. YVe
understand what man is capable of, and are
anxious to assist our follow in rising lo tiiat
elevation tiie Almighty has assigned him.
l'nc human mini, is the page we daily- study 7,
and every day we derive new ph asure and
profit from its perusal. More especially do
we become connected in our sympathies with
the child. The being that would otherwise
have been hut a helpless and nearly insensi
hie thing, tiiat would have been but slightly
regarded as possesing no claim on our sympa
thies, becomes from our perception of its high
destiny, and from our appreciation of the im
' morttil spirit, with which it is endowed, a de
: ligiitl'ul comp,at ion, and a most interesting
! study. We join in its light heartedness, we
| sport with it in its merriest gambols, and
I sympathise with its peculiar griefs. Man and
| Ins destiny are no longer the blank pages to
1 us they once were.
i But the Almighty hath still greater things
in store for him, who performs his highest
duty in cultivating Iris intellect. For him are
| stored treasures that are not dreamed ofbv
itl e vulgar mind. To him alone hath the AN
! mighty given the key to the perusal of nature,
God’s own hook. And in this hath lie re
vealed a page, w hose splendors can be viewed
1 only by the refined of soul. While the man
of vulgar mould hut regards the stupendous
plan of nature as a passing scene, to which
I no attention is due, the man of cultivated in
j teffect views it in the wisdom and power of an
I Omnipotent agent. The earth’s revolution on
TIIE SOUTHERN POST.
ts ax s, tie regular succession of day and night
:e sun and moon and stars sustained in ti.e r
ices, the succession of the seasons, and the
v.-.ti.t ous ot' the comets—are to the one but
e vagaries of a passing dream, that occur,
ekt.ows uot why, and cates not how ; while
tot e other they reveal a wisdom, a power
and lieauty, that fill him with awe and admi
nit on. To ti e one, the rising of the sun is
but ;m every dav occurrence, that causes no
remark, and attracts no attention, while the
other views it ns an image of power and of
goodness, beholding iu the event which ap
-11 urs to the other so simple, tile provision the
\ “iry Ims allot-led tor man’s comfort and
■ ; mess. Tl e one views in the mellowness
o: tl e sky. it the rich tints that glow in the
' in set. :n the hr ill nicy that bounds the hori
zon. t :g. 1:1 cent Ire t ies spread bv God’s own
■:and to n. ko to his children blessed and
happy; wit e tlie other regards them as lightly
as t e crcat ons ofa child.
“ S. u's tiiat too deeply fie!, O envy not
Thi si en < i your fate hath never known;
T!.rou_li the dull twilight of that w intry lot,
Cmms ii *i r jfpreed, nor fancy’s sunbeam shown ; |
Nor tlioi e high thoughts that hailing glory's trace,
Glow in the generous flames of every age and race.” \
The man of uncultivated mind, views in the
wondrous workings of nature, in the eclipses
that spread darkness over the earth ; in the
comets that glow in their brilliant train, that
appear for a moment and are gone, and in the
i.ditnings vivid flash that lenders visible the
darkness of the night, nought hut images of
terror ; while the cultivated mind views them
al! but as more striking manifestations of God’s
power. He sees in them God’s goodness
more visible, and stamped on them every
where he views the impress of God’s own
hand. T hey are to him deep inspiration.
His soul is filled with a holy gladness, and he
is ready to join and gambol" with the spirits of
air.
But if the mind should be everywhere culti- j
vated to grasp the key offered by nature to
her grandeur and beauties, how much more
incumbent is this mental cultivation on the
sons and daughters of the South ! God hath
here opened to his children the brightest page I
of his own book,
“ Where the deep gold of eventide,
Burns in the southern sky.”
All that the poet can dreatn or the painter
color, are here in their magnificence. Glo
rious waterfalls and streaming cascades, deep
caverns and towering cliff's, are all displayed
in nature’s own robe, to the gaze of their fre
quenters and worshippers. While the brillian
cy of heaven afforded by a southern sky clothes
them with a beauty that wraps and inspires the
beholder with love and awe.
“Soft skies of die South, how richly drest
Smiles these wild scenes in your purpureal glow.”
W idle tiie extensive level regions of the low
country but affect the mind the more from
their strong and vivid contrast with the wild
and irregular scenes of highlands. All may
inspire, and recreant in truth must Ire the sons
and daughters of such a region and such a
clime, to sacrifice th ir birthright. The rich
repast is spread he ore them ; will they fail to
ci oy it ? Will they fail to reach forward and
siaze the key that the God of nature has offer
ed them to reveal the highest beauties? Is
the roo-t brilliant page of God’s own book 1
open to them; and will they not read? The
splendors that delight while they exalt and
purify, are presented to their view. They
cannot foil to come under their holy influence.
>
LORD BYRON.
On the whole, Byron Ims done great ser
vice to virtue,and wail bo regarded through all
time as having made in that matter a great
and conclusive experiment. Before his time,
men, dwelling in the region of moderate de
cency, have handled and smelt and tasted the
forms of seductive vice, and have asserted that
there was much excellence in them, and that it
might be a question whether it were not a safe
game wholly to relinquish truth and its re-
stmints; and lo take up with vice for vice’s
sake. But Byron is the first man who has
devoted his life and powers to the cultivation
ol flagitiousncss, and has been determined to
find and fix in depravity ail his hopes and
wishes and rewards. To this new scheme of
j happiness he dedicated himself wholly, and
with all the ardor of desperation ; sounded
passion to its depth, and raked the bottom
of the gulf of sin ; he explored with the
indomitable spirit of Carathis, every chain
her and cavein of the earthly hell of bad de
lights ; and the result was barrenness and ex
haustion ; the conclusion was, that when the
inspiring immorality of celestial I tope was re
signed, there was an end to the interest w hich
had once been attractive ; —that in Atheism
, there was no principle of progression—no
source of vitality—no impulse ’o exertion—
that virtue is, in its views, its thoughts, and its
hopes, prolonged, complete and permanent—
that vice is deciduous, crumbling, fragmentary;
that the one addresses itself to that within us
which is deep and everlasting, while the other
engages only those faculties which are mortal
and transitory, and leaves the eternal soul to
;the ‘self-torture of irremediable vacuity.’
National Gazette.
OFF WITH HIS NOSE.
An English newspaper says that the new
Russian Minister to the United States is called
Somonosoff (saw my nose off.) An attache
of the same legation in Washington, Blowma.
nozolf (blow my nose off). Besides which
we have Colonel Kutmanosoff, of'the imperial
guard, (cut my nose off.) Marshal Pullma
nosoff, (pull my nose off) General Nozebegun,
(nose begone) and many others.
CHURCH BLOWN UP.
The Bridgeport (Conn.) Farmer of the sth
inst., states, thut the Baptist Church in the
west part of Reading, was blown to pieces
with powder on the night of the 28th ult. The
Rev. Mr. Culver had delivered a discourse
there on Abolition, and had given notice that
lie should deliver another on the same subject,
on the evening of the 29ih. To prevent this,
some unknown pci son placed a keg of pow.
tier under the pulpit, and set fire to il. The
ichurch was demolished.
From the New-York Mirror.
31V BROTHER.
BY FCD G E CONRAD.
He was asked whom he loved most, and he answer
ed, his Brother : the person who put the question then
O-'ked him, w hom he loved next, and again he said, his
Brother. “ Whom in the third place ?” And still it
was, •* My Brother,” and so on till he put no more ques
tions to him about it. — Plutarch's C ato.
For ever gone ! lam alone—alone !
Yet my heart doubts; io me thou livest yet:
Love’s lingering twilight o’er my.soul is thrown
E'en when the orb that lent that light is set.
Thouniing'.est with niv hopes—does Hope target?
I think ol thee, as thou wert at my ~ide ;
1 grieve, and whisper—“ hr too will regret
I doubt, and ponder—“ how will lit decide ?”
I strive, but 'tis win thy praises ati.l thy pride,
For I thy praise could win—ihy praise sincere.
How lov’si thou me with more than woman's love!
And thou to me wert e'en as honor dear !
Nature in one fond woof our spirits wove :
Like wedded vines enclasping in the grove,
e grew. Ah ! wither'd now ihe fvirer vine I
But from the living who the dead can move ?
Biending their sere and green leav e.-, there tliry twine.
And will, till dust to dust shall mingle mine with thine.
The sunshine of our boyhood! I bethink
How we were wont to beat the briery wood ;
Or clamber, boastful, up the craggy brink.
Where the rent mountain frowns upon the flood
That fluids that vale of beauty and of blood.
Sad Wyoming ! The whispering past will tell,
How by the silver-brow’d cascade we stood,
And watch'd the sunlit waters ns they fell
(So youth drops in the grave) down in the shadowy dell.
And how w-e plunged in Lackawana’s wave;
The wild-fowl started, when to echo gay.
In that hush'd dell. Had laugh and shout wc gave.
Or, on the shaded hill-side how we lay
And watch'd the bright rack on its beamy way,
Dreaming high dreams of glory ar.d of pride.
What heroes we, in freedom's deadliest fray!
How poui'd we gladly forth life’s ruddy tide,
Look'd to our skyey flag, and shouted, smiled, and died !
Bright dreams—for ever past! I dream no more!
Memory is now my being : her sweet tone
Can, life n spirit-spell, the lost restore—
My tried, my true, my brave, bright-thoughted one !
Few have a friend—and such a friend ! But none
Have, in this bleak world, more than one ; and lie,
Ever mine own, mine only— he is gone !
He fell —as hope had promised—for the free :
Our early dream. Alas ! it was no dream to thee !
We were not near thee ! Oh ! I would have given,
To pillow in my arms thy aching head,
All that I love of earth or hope of heaven !
But strangers laid thee in thy prairie-bed ;
And though the drum was roil’d, and tears were shed,
’Twas not by those w ho loved thee first and best.
Now waves the billowy grass above the dead,
The prairie-herd ireaus on thy throbless breast,
Wo's me ! I may not weep above thy place of rest.
Now must I turn to stone ! Fair virtue, truth,
I aith, love, were living things when thou wert here;
We shared a w orld, bright with the dew of youth,
And spann’d by rainbow thoughts. Gar souls sincere
Knew, in their love, nor selfish taint nor fear:
We would have smiled, and for each other died!
All this to us how real and how dear!
But now my bosom’s welling founts are dried,
Or pour, like ice-bound streams, a cidil'u and .oiceless
tide.
Must it be ever thus ? The festive hour
Is festive now no more; for dimpling joy
Smiles with thy smile; and music's melting power
Speaks to my soul of ihee! The struggling sigh
Clio!.vs ihe faint laugh; and from my swimming eye,
The tear-drop trickling, turns my cup to gall.
E’en as the hour that bade thee, Brother, die,
Mingles with all my day3 and poisons all.
Mantling my life with gloom, as with a dead man's pall.
Oh, may not men, like strings that chord in tone,
Mingle their spirits, and hereafter be
One in their nature, in their being one ?
And may I not ho blended thus w ith thee ?
Parted in body, Brother, bore not we
The self-same soul ? Ah me! w ith restless pain,
My halved spirit yearneth to be free,
And clasp its other self: for I would fain.
Brother, be with the dead, to Le with thee again !
TIIE FRAILTIES OF GENIUS.
A respected contemporary who assails us
in a somewhat objugalory tin.l ill-tempered
style of rebuke, for the publication of** letters
from England,” considers it highly censura
ble io expose the fraiitics of those ** who have
commended themselves to the attention of
the world by the productions of their genius.”
With deference, we would dissent from this
opinion. It is but the tax which persons who
have climbed to the apex of the social pyramid
must expect to pay to the great mass who look
up to them, to be circumspect as to t! to exam
ple which they may be presenting. It is but
a fair, just, and natural consequence of their
conspicuous elevation above the vulgar, that
their conduct should be open to the censure
or praise of observers. The time has gone
by when outrages upon the decencies of soci
ety could be palliated under tiie m’serableplea
oftiie “ eccentricities of genius.”
New Y'ork Mirror.
It sometimes happens that if the scandal of
literature attaches to one’s name it is down
right murder co omitted on his reputation and
interest ; and if his temporary advancement,
and wordly success, depend on his profession
al efforts, the verest dunce, and most igno
rant pretender, have a greater chance of suc
cess. The mass of mankind, indeed, look up
on mental superiority with a jaundiced eve.
Every gossip is glad to hear and propagate an
evil report against the possessor of it ; the ru
-1 mor of his foibles grows larger as it proceeds,
and in its | assage from mouth to mouth, is
magnified like my lady’s account of the mad
;dog, or the story of the three black crows.
AH arc rejoiced to discover him tripping, and
the owls and the bats, in solemn conclave as
sembled, determine with acclamation that the
eagle is blind.
Strange, that what forms the glory of our
nature, and assimilates us to superior orders of
intelligence, should be the object at which vul
gar prejudice discharged its shaft! Strange,
that the essence and fountain of all moral rec
titude, and political improvement, should he
polluted with the venom of envy ! Strange,
that the hand which offers happiness to virtue,
and points the path of honorable distinction,
should be thrust back, as it were, filled with
serpents ! And yet so it is !
One ofthc principal prejudices against learn
ing, however, arises in a much more reasona
ble way— the errors that too frequently springs
' up in the constitution qfgenius. It is curious
that the soil most remar for fertility, is
denoted by nothing mor*r=— correctly than the
i luxuriance of its weeds. No doubt the alien
ation of the world, the «3»p|ietency for purer
delight, so frequently (list* g. >pointecl. and the su
perior temptation to a literary man,
may lie brought in as a k i 4) d of apology ; and
if not as a proper excuse :t'or the error, at least
in mitigation of its heiuo*. -rsiicss. But to this
we by no means assent. Tne man who walks
astray through ignorances-, and darkness, and
frailty of intellect, may 1 ■ olerated and for
given “ seventy times in hut be who
errs, in the clear sunshin « - against the moni
tor within, richly deserves and ought to suffer,
all the odium of his guilt c*. «id folly.
Tne truth is, however* that justice is not of
ten dealt; this prejudice -*jf the world comes
between, and hoodwinks truth. The exone
rating part of the pie i is p * a rpo.sely 'eft out, and
the culpable shades wraj» jped in tenfold dark
ness. Often has the verv - accusation of guilt
led to the co i-eqnences it deprecated ; nor is
there a surer method ofi't tidering crimes gen
eral than by giving them j aublicitv, and suppo
sing them to he comma*: v ; for whatever is
very common, it is suppo —i C d cannot be very
wrong. No woman ever-r found or fancied
herself a witch, till she wi*. suspected of being
so- What can be so unw- than our
method of determining character of the un
fortunate ? Ihe extent <cu»fthe temptation is
whclly put out of view, at* <J the degree of evil
incurred, is supposed to greater or less, ac
cording as it falls from hit-* ) from whom better
things might have been xpicted. It is sel
dom, or never, a matter c> *' reflection, how the
sufferers are found to hear- ; and that which is
reckoned a trilie by one, m? my occasion the most
heart rending anguish to a m lother. Whet) So
crates heard the sentence < ( his banishment, be;
said that the whole world v*— as his country ; but
Ovid sighed in his exile fi_i r tiie scenes of bis
nativity ; and while Cardi K , a | de Retz amused
himself by writing the life his goalcr, Tasso
fretted himself to death it m die solitude of Iris
dungeon.
When wc remember tliarxt education softens
the manners and refines -*lie toolings, so that
one of the most prevailing - characteristics of
men of genius, is their ine ceased sensibility to
impulses from without,and impulses from with
in, we shall be more incl itied to sympathise
with those whom neglect has driven to des
pair, or disappointment er* ticed into the hate
ful an I unhaliowed regions*, of error.
Finding but seldom that harmony and feli
city in mixed society wide ti they arc prone to
pursue, it is not at all tr» arvcllous, that the>
should sometimes seek aft* ritin an erroneous
path; but those frailties ar«E—r, in by far the great
er number of instances, tlx —j offspring neither
of coldness of heart nor ce» rruption of charac
ter. They are the delus * ve and temporary
schemes to bailie affliction resorted to in an
hour of suffering, hut hate< i, loathed, and des
pised in the calniofmental contemplation.
N. 0. Picayuue.
IMPORTANT -!SIOX.
Many means have alrcs =n!y been invented
and adopted for obviating the difficulties and
dangers of navigation over *• bars and shallow
waters in harbors and r£ vers; but none of
tnem can bear competition with one lately in
vented in England, and both there
and in our own country. By this invention a
ship or steamboat may lu «.vc but little more
than half the usual draft of 'water, according to
its burthen; and this may l »o cliectodin a very
short time.
Tie machinery to bees sed will bo cheap
and simple. Two or mor«£j buoys or lightuers
are to be made of c:uiva%9.s or other corn s 1
material, and rendered itn[> en vious to water by
tee solution or preparat,i> iof India rubber,
now so commonly used lo r similar piirpo .es
in air-cushions, hle-preser-w ers, &c. Hollow
tubes of similar materials, i*. xc tacn to be placed
fiom too. e buoys or mar i no Luloons, on the
deck or along tac gunwale » to an air-chamber
aft, specially constructed ; and in connection
with the chamber is to bo an air-pump re
moveable at pleasure, ’i ~*his is the whole
apparatus, all parts of whi can be adjusted
or removed iii a lew min » ites—the chamber
alone being stationary. 'l'* i.o air pump is to
inflate the buoys for use an c i action, and after
wards empty tueni, when » longer necessary.
The buoys may of courses lie made of any
dimensions orany number required; and are
calculated to raise a ship o ST 800 tons burthen
and 17 leel draft, some 6 e» r 8 leet out of the
water, just as circumstances =3 demand.
There are many rivers c*nd harbors in our
country, where such an invention when
practically enforced must aprove of the most
beneficial tendency. It w~ all completely pre
vent the accustomed interre* prion to river navi
gation from low water or hi* ws—which certain
ly cun be considered no tri Mffing object by any
acquainted with the evils of - such interruption
at the pro ent time.
Tn-) patent was taken »*jt in June last for
the United States by Captain John Collins,
late of the Shakespeare, no of the Roseious;
and the machinery, with i t s results, will be
publicly exhibited by him ii t a few days.
N. V. Star.
- .
In this city, on the 18tli inst. b>. — the Rev. Mr. Cassels
Mr. ARTHUR FOGARTIE, o ■£ Charleston, to Miss
SARAH MONTGOMERY, or this city.
{Kr The Ladies’ Society for F~female Education, ac
knowledge the receipt of Twelve Hundred Dollars, du
ring the late Fair held at the Cox xrt House on the 11th
and 12th of December, leaving tl r *>in after all expenses
are paid, the nett sum of Sever* Hundred Dollars in
hand. Feeling grateful to age- nerous public, for the
liberality manifested to them oil t: liat occasion, hope by
their industry and perseverance i r n the cause they have
espoused, to merit the approbatioi * and patronage of the
friends of Female Education.
yv-~cn> Religious Notice Divine Service to
( [ s morrow at the Court I -R" oust, at 11 o’clock A.
M., and 7 P.M. Th« - members of the t’ni
versalist Society are invited to at* a meeting of their
body, immediately after the ntorr* Sng discourse. In the
evening a Sermon in anticipate of the occasion of
Christmas may be expected.
December 22d.
MUSIC! Ml
lUST received, an assortment of Piano Music; Cra
mer’s Instructor fordo.; II winter’s do.; Burrows’
/’rimer do. ; Thorough Base, Composition to do.,
for sole by C. A. ELLS.
I December IS ft
OR I G INAL.
For the Southern Poat
Mr. Editor: The following piece was written a t
Inscribed, a few years ago, to a young lady of high mT
ml endowments, who wrote under the signature of “ jj
E. L.” Although the author has since become a-r,. Jai ri
ted with her character, he deems the following piece
ly a just meed of praise for her poetical talent W
TO ML E. L.
Sweet spirit, whose poetic lays
Have charmed so oft our mental waste/
And won the meed of heart-felt praise.
With sounds so beautiful and chaste.
I call thee from thy lone retreat
To p tes’y celestial bower,
Lest the soft breathings, pure and sweet,
Should perish like a desert flower.
Is there no charm in this wide world
Can touch that tender sou! of thine
W hile fame with fadeless wreath unfurled
Stands waiting thy fair brow to twine ?
And many a fond, congenial heart
Will sympathise in all thy woes,
And act a kindred spirit’s part,
Whene’er thy tear of sorrow flows.
One eve at least hast loved thy lays,
And bent in rapture o’r thy song ;
And one thrilled heart shall give the praise
To her, to whom such notes belong.
And though, as now, thou mayst remain
To me, and to the world unknown,
That heart shall vibrate yet again
O'er notes from thy past harp-strings flown.
And oft amid some fairy dream.
That flutters round my mid-night cell;
Above the darkness there shaU gleam
The semblance of a magic spell.
Awaking to his raptured gaze,
Thy fancied image, o’er the lyre,
Breathing in rich and lofty lays
The gentle heart—the thought of fire.
And though by some vindictive blast,
His destiny from thine be driven ;
Yet he will pray when life is past,
To see thee, though afar in Heaven !
xv . P ■ E- M. P.
v> arrenton, Georgia.
For the Southern Post.
SELECTIONS FUOJt OUR BUDGET.
To the Lilly of the Vnlley.
Composed by John Spence, Jr., Doncaster, England.—
He died at the age of 21 years.
“ Tiie Lily Ladye of the flow’ring field.”—Spencer.
Fairest and sweetest of all flowers,
I hail thee peerless as thou art ;
Not found in Summer's gaudy bowers,
But dwelling modestly apart.
Emblem of innocence and worth !
Thou rcar'st thy spotless form ;
The lowly valley gives thee birth,
Safe from the passing storm.
In vouth thou wer’t niv mother's pride.
And to her gentle heart oft press’d ;
Sisters in purity allied—
-I‘earls on creation’s breast.
Sweet flower 1 I lov’d thee when a child,
And pluck'd thee in my youthful glee ;
When o'er me that fond mother smil'd—
Oh ! but once more that smile to see!
But she is center’d in that home
Where storms and tempests ne’er assail;
And I with thee may sadly roam,
Along the lonely trodden vale.
For the Southern Post.
JJy very first debut.
“ Beware how you loiter in vain
Among nymphs of a higher degree.”
I’ll have you to understand, I’m a lad of rare qualities,
and a first rate genus. The fates havin decreed, tint'l
should never have no skoolmastcr, nor lawyer larnin, 1
have to act by instinct. Well, love I’m told is a nat’ral
instinct. If I can avoid if, I do not wish to write any
thing about this love, but should my instinct force nte in
that vein, you must pardon me. It seems that every
writer of the present age thinks he has not discharged
his duty, unless he writes about love and uuthin else.—
Perhaps I may not lie a sensitive being, to that degree
that most of persons are, the grand passion having never
but once in my life, taken possession of my very tender
heart.
Perhaps a short history of my first grand move, with
a detailed account of my early eittin forth, will not be
uninteresting to you. I was strickly confined at home
by Dad, who taught me with all the wisdom of Solon
how to wield the matto k and plough, never givin me a
chance to go in company “to lam the ways of the world
When I arrived at ihe age of nineteen years, I began to
feel somewhat like a man, began to assume “ airs ’
and hav e my own way in some things. But the old
man was a second “ Petruchis, ” not only “ drest in a
little brief aulhority ” but held the reins of government
and us’d them over his family with all the dignity ol a
Russian Autocrat. Growin more courageous as 1 ap
proached twenty-one, know in soon I would be “my ° w 11
man ,” f ventured to suggest to him, I thought, inasmuc >,
as I lmd worked fur him very hard, lie of course, shqul
give me a broad cloth coat, a dimity jacket, and a pair ot
corderoy pantaloons—at the time urgin my right verj < ;
oquently for the same, by tellin him my heart was in a
lite blaze for Sophy Winfrey, and I w anted to go a cour
tin. “ You want to go a courtin, you sap headed sa| .m
you, I reckon you’ll have to cat a few more ashcak .
and drink a few more jugs of buUermilk before \ou go a
courtin by my consent.” Well said I, I’ll soan be
ty-onc —“ Y es, yes,” he replied, appearin very m u j
cooled down—“ Y’es—Well, if you w ill do me a v -
labor, and wc make a good crop, and sell it for a
price, next fall you shall have, what you have asked tor,
and have my consent to go and see Soaf.” To make a
|ong story a short one, I worked well, made a good crap,
received a fair price for the same, and Dad redeente
pledge. Shall I describe my feelins, the first time I wrap
ped myself, in these, my bran, span, new, Sunday-go-o>
meetin clothes ? If my memory sarves me rite, Ido not
think, I slept five minutes on Saturday nitc, thinkin,
w hat a superb ligger I would cut at meetin on the
lowin Sunday; especially, before the eyes of bop*-,
Winfrey. Sunday mornin found me between two to
in glasses, primpin, lookin, and fixin to the best o n ’J
nollidge. Every tiling being adjusted to my notion,
while in the actofmakin my appearance, 1 retired, 11
kin I never could stand the shock, to appear before •
and Mam, Brothers and Sisters, besides Aunt Jem*™
Hornbeam, Cousin Geraldine Snooks, and Parson -
ses Noles, who was at our house on a visit,
found out this plan w ould not do, sumHWnsin ®
courage, in I swaggered, made a grace ful bow,an .
to look composed. I tell you I felt sheepish.
well” says'Aunt Jemima “Mark Anthony Snubs, *
made you let the tailor spile your briches for, be s .