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b:irbcr ? We must have hss Itend sltavoJ and
blistered,” ,N - ikl {).'. \\ in;.
« A't, j oar, dear Inisb tnd, ’ sn:J the lady
« 1 I'ctr bo never will know Ins ini.scrab;e
tv :Ic.”
*• Here she irors—there she goes! ’ and the
landlord with more emphasis, and with n
more nervous, ye' determine 1 waving of
his fi tger in concert with t c pendalum ;
for the in note hand wis nc ir the twelve
—that point which was to put fifty dollars
into his pocket, if it had ariive 1 at it without
his sn.lcri tg himself to he into: r :pted.
T.ie wife in low, hewa leg tones, co.itin .cd
It r u‘tf r nice—
“ No ! never ; or of Its daughter
“ Here she goes—there she goci, a!mo =t
shouted the landlord, as the muiute hand ad
vanced to the desired j.o.at.
The barber arrive 1 ; he was nt• irally a
talkative man—when the doctor male some
casual remark, refleeting upon t! e qua'ity of
the instrument he was about to use, !.c re
plied—
“Ah ha! no, Mo.nsetir you say very bad to
razor—tres beautiful—eh ?—look —very line
isn’t she?”
“ Here she goes, there she goes! ’ scream
ed the landlord, his band waving on—on, and
his face oatheriiig a smile, and Ins whole frame
i:t readiness to he convulsed with joy.
Toe It niter was amazed. “ ! Fere she goes
—there she goes !” iie responded in the best j
Hnglis't he could use—\ ere ? ’ vere shall 1
he«riii? Vat is dat lie say?” I
“ Shave bis bead at once !” interrupted tlic I
doctor, while the lady sank i ito chair. j
“Here she goes—th ae s!io—goes !” for the
last time cried the landlord, as the elo< k struck ;
t!te hoar of nine, and he sprung front his seat:
in an ecstaey of delight, sereaming at the top j
of his voice, as be skipped about the room—
*• I've won it!—l’ve wot it!”
•• Wont!” said the bar-keeper.
“ What!” echoed the doctors.
“ What!” re-echoed the wile.
“ Wuv, the wager—fitly dollars !” But cast
ing his eyes around the room, and missing the j
young men who induced bint to watch the!
l!o k. be asked the barkeeper—
“ Wtierc are tlioie young men who supped
here last night ? el) ? quick, where are they ?”
“ Titcv went away in their wagon nearly an
hour ago, sir !” was the reply.
‘•Tlietrutli flashed like it thunderbolt through
hi < mind.
Titey had taken his pocket book with one
h.Midrc l and seven dollars therein and de-j
e. ll npc ! —a couple o' swindling sharpers, with
wit to buck them ! Toe story rife on all men’s
tongues in the neighborhood where this affair j
o-currod, and the ••facts are not otherwise
than here set down;” but we regret that the
worthy landlord in endeavoring to overtake the
r iscnls, w is thrown from his own wagon and
to severely injured us to be confined to his
loom at the present moment, where lie can
tvalc'l t.ie [H.'nilkim „f lii.t c/or!; at hiu leisure.
From Bentley’s Miscellany.
CA PTCnE O" T!IF. PASHA’S HAREM.
In ISdff, the Greeks. in one of their marnu
d.ng e\ped:tious captured the entire Harem
in tic celeb rated Ciiereliitl P.ishn. The in
stant this affair was .undo Known to Sir Feeder
; 'K A i'.i'ii, he sent to negotiate with the cap
tors for tue.r jii'ize, a:i I ransouied tlicm for
10,Odd dollars. With the kindest and mod
• •eiicate attention, Sir Frcder.ck had a house
fined up expressly for tiie reception of these
fur iufi Ids, and had them conveyed to Corfu
a id lan led in the night unseen bv the curious
inhibit tilts. J luring their resi leuce, tliestric.
I- it privacy was observed with regard tothem :
not an individual in the island was allowed to
s>e them e\ce;it Lady A turn ; and a very few
of lie lad e of the garrison.
*>■•' 1 rc lerick !o>. no time in eomtnun’ca
tmo with toepas'.i i, and iiii’onnc I him ufull lie
li el done, and tno scrujiuloiis care which had
•«*t*n observed rcnjiectinsj the privacy ol'the
I.riles of liis Harem. Tne pasha ictu'rnc i the
m > ;? profuse acknowledgements to Sir Fred
crick ior his kindness and attention, .statin., the
.satisinctirtu lift should have in rcpavititj the
ruiso.n, and rc ) nesting Sir Frederic!; to o!,!'ge
hint l»y sending them to Lepanto as speedllv
its possdile. Sir Fie lenck Adam etigaged
.the ffrst merchant brig he was ah!e, and had
I'cr fitted up for 'tie reception of its fair firoMit
" t'i such care, that none of the people'on
board could, by any possibility, catch a glimpse
of their passcugcis. Many of these interest,
ii'g Creatures had ingratiatiated themselves
WQjiderfu’ly with the Indies. who were allow,
cd to visit them, by their entiie artle.ssness and
unsophisticated notions of the world and its
ways, (due was the favorite of the pasha,
and was said to possess great influence over
linn. Sue was a native of threassia, aid was
caned Fatima, and possessed a greater profu
sion of ornament and rich clothing than the
others. Lady Adam described her its the
mo t decidedly beautiful creatine she hadever
i.eheid. See bad large dark eyes with a pe
culiar soft and pleasing expression, which
could not fail to interest any one who looked
upon her; her eyelashes were very long and
black : her complexion was of the pirc-it
white, and her teeth like ivory. She was not
more than eighteen years of age, and Ladv
Adam could not refrain from tears at parting
with one so young and so beautiful, about to
lie secluded for ever from a world which she
might under happier circumstances, have
adorned.
When tlie brig was ready for their recep-!
tion, they were put on board, without having
l*tcn seen by a single individual, excepting
the l:\di -s already mentioned. Captain An
derson, in the lt.rdpo'o, acted as convoy, and .
Captain Gilbert, A. I). C., vus sen' from Sir
Frederick Adam with dcspatclies for the pa
sha, and to receive the ransom money. I had
been cruising for some time with Andersou,
and therefore accompanied him.
We had a most delightful trip from Corfu
up the tlulf of Lepanto, where we had orders
to deliver up our interesting charge. Some of
the Turkish authorities, charged with the or
ders of his highness, the pasha, woe dic e to
receive them. They reiterated the pasha’s
acknowledgements for the kindness and cnie
with which tlie ladies had been treated, mid
the ransom money was told into buckets of
water to prevent contagion. The beautiful
Fatima, at parting, left two handsome shawls
as a remembrance, one for Captain Anderson,
and the other for Captain Gilbert. They
were conveved from the brig so closely en fc
vc'oped, that not even a figure was discernible,
and on their landing were surrounded by a
troop of blacks, or guards of the llurem, and
conveyed ill closed litters to the town.
T.ie Kedpole then sailed for Z into, whither
Sir Frederic and Lady Adam had gone, to
whom the captain gave an account of Ins mis
-io.t, and truly delighted they were to hear
that their protegees bad been so kindly re
eeM. i. On oar return to Corfu, the following
'most distressing intelligence awaited us.—
Scare.dv had the two vessels sailed from tlic
Gtilf of Lepanto than the ruthless monster of
a pasha, placing no faith in the honor ol Brit
ish officers, ami deaf to all remonstrance,
caused the whole of these unfortunate crea
tiiieu, the beautiful and interesting Fatima
among the rest, to be tied in sacks and drown
ed in tiie wate.s of the Hlupli ! Tlic horror
and indignation with which this shocking in
telligence was received at Corfu can hardly
be described. Not a man but would have
gladly volunteered to have burnt Lepanto to
the ground, and have hung tlic dog of a pa
sha bv his own beard. But we were power
less: we Ind no right to interfere, and were
to smother our indignation as we best could.
There was many a wet eye in Corfu for the
fate of poor Fatima and her luckless compa
nions. But judgment speedily overtook the
perpetrator of this most wanton deed of
butchery, though it is strange bow noble were
the last moments of this man of blood !
Bv some means Cucrebid Pasha bad incur-
red tie suspicion of the Porte. There is but
one way amongst the Turks of explaining
these matters. A Tartar shortly arrived at
the head-quarters of the Pasha, bearing the
imperial firman and the fatal bowstring. The
pasha no sooner read the fatal scroll than he
kissed it, and bowed bis forehead to the earth
in token of reverence and submission.
| “Do your instructions forbid me to use poi
i.son instead of submitting to the bowstring?”
; calmly asked the pasha of the Tartar.
•• His highness may use his own pleasure,”
answered tiie Tartar. “I have with me a
1 potent mixture, which, with bis highness’s
ipermission, I will prepare.”
T.ie pasha then called together all his of
ficers and his household. He was attire 1 in
| his most splendid robes, and received them in 1
; his state divan, as though in the plenitude of
] iiis power. The fatal messenger stood by bis
i side. In one hand he held a golden goblet
I ail enriched with precious stones, and in the
other he held the imperial firman I “ 1 have
j sent for you,” lie said, addressing them in a
firm voice—•• I have sent for you all, to show
yon by in. example, that it is tlic duty of a
Mussulman to die at the command of his stipe
! rior, as well as to live for his services and
honor. The sultan, o'K master, has no fur-
jtl.er occasion for bis servant,and has sent h m
] t is finnan. It remains for me only to obey.
I might, it is true, resist, surrounded ns 1 am
hy guards and friends. But no : I respect the
will of Co.I and our blessed prophet, through
th" word ofhis successor. I value not ilfe, in
comparison v. til j duty’ ; and 1 pray you ali to
profit by my example.” With a firm and tin
flinching hand lie carried the poisoned goblet
to h.s bps and drank it to the dregs, then
shaking his head, as one who has had a nau
seous draught, he handed the cup to the Tur
j tar, and said, •• Keep it; your potion is bitter
[indeed : present my duty to our master, and
isay that bis servant died as he lived, faithful
jand true. And you,” be add id, turning to
those who stool dismayed around him, *• if
ever it should arrive t at any of you should
have to undergo the—same—trial,” his voice
faltered, and his face became deadly pale;—
“ remember—Caercliid Pacha! Allah—Ac
bar!—(Jod’s will Lie---” but before be could
fini sh tiie sentence, his 'bead fell upon bis
brea st, and be fall back upon the cushions of j
his divan and expired.
Tiie Tartar took a bag from iiis girdle, and
will) a knife separated the bead from tiie body;
the blood staining the jewelled velvets. Tne
iiea 1 he deposited carefully in the bag, tied it
round liis waist, and, in a few minutes, was on
bis (1 ct steed, on tlic road to Constantinople.
We had this account from an eye witness.
THE PASSIONS.
As light was the eldest-born principle of the
universe, so lovi was the eldest-horn passion
of humanity, though people quot’-' Milton to
prove that vanity was so—in our own sex at
least ; and many are the witty sayings on this
favorite text; hut they arc wiong, and their
text misinterpreted. Eve, when she looked
in passionate delight on her own lovely face re
fleeted in the stream, knew not it was her own
and had nothing else to love; the moment she
found an Adam to lavish the awakened sym
pathies, she turned from the shadow to the re
ality, even though “less winning soft, less
amiably fair she did not sit upon the bank
and pine to death for her own fair face,
“Like that too beauteous boy,
That lost himself by loving of himself
j while the voice of love wooed her in vain.—
Vanity in this instance was but the shadow of
love. But, oh me! flow many women,since
the days of Echo and Narcissus, have pined
themselves into air for the love of men who
were only in love with themselves !
The first paper printed in the territory, now
forming the United States, was at Boston, in
the year 1704, fifty years after the number was
eleven, the year before the Declaration of Inde
pendence there were thirty-four, in 1800 the
number amounted to 150, in 1810, to 850,
now it exceeds a thousand papers. All Europe
publishes hut two thousand pajiers. all Asia, 27
papers. These facts show that ldierty is inti
mately connected with periodical literature.
COMPARATIVE STRENGTH OF NAVIES.
Sir John B trrow has recently made the fol
lowing statement, allowing tlie comparative
strength of the British Navy, and those of
France. Russia and tlie United States:
T. e English ships of the line are stated to
: ; s' 90 ;of France, 49 ;of Russia, 50 ; United
I Slates, 15.
Tlie English f'igntos number 99; French,
00; Russian, 25 ; American, 35.
The English steam ships of war, 12; French,
'37; Russian, H; American 1, building, 9.
THE SOUTHERN POST.
From the Knickerbocker.
MY MOTHER’S GRAVE.
I remember vividly theetreumstances of her
departure. Consumption had already done
ts powerful work. Unlike many who are
smitten with this disease, she preferred to die
in tile bosom of her family. Why should the
stag, pierced to the heart in its own thickets,
seek refuge in tiie deeper glades, to bleed to
death? It is a wrong idea, this, of searching
in a land of strangers for health which is
“ clean gone for ever ?” How many are thus
yearly cut i own in the midst of their wander
ings ? In some desolate chamber, they lie in
the agonies of death. No soft hand presses
their brow ; no familiar voice whispers in tin
ear ; no cherished fliend performs their fune
ral obsequies. Death is indeed bitter, under
such circumstances, being without its usual
alleviations. It is a sweet consolation to die
at home:
“Ori some fund breast the parting sou! relies,
Some pious drops the closing eye requires ;
E.en from the tomb the voice of nature cries.
Even iu our ashes live their wonted fires.”
There is something dreadful, yet beautiful,
in consumption. It comes stealing on so
softly and so silently. It conies, too, in the
gar!) of mockery and deception, and clothes
its victims in beautiful garments, for the grave.
The hectic flush, the snowy brow, tiie brilliant
eye ; who could believe that these were death’s
precursors, the signet of the conqueror! It
invests the patient with a preternatural pa-
Fence and sweetness under suffering, keeping
alive at the same lime, in her breast the illu
sion of hope. Even in her moments, of keen
est suffering, she looks forward to days of re
turning happiness; and while the worm is
forever praying at the core, and her slender
form becomes each day more feeble and at
tenuate, she bails before her a gilded prospect,
and the mind and spirits are buoyant with the
thought. But when the final struggle has
commenced, how sublime is the spectacle !
To behold the mortal mind so culm, so tran
quil, and so triumphant ; waxing brighter and
brighter, while the tenement which contains it
is but a poor flesh less skeleton ; to behold the
eye beaming with uiidiminishcd lustre toward
the objects of its affection, until the soul at
last bursting the charnel vault which has too
long confined it, takes one triumphant bound.
Then is tiie bo ly still and silent. The feather
unruffled by the breath, and the glass retains
its jioi.sh ; for dust has returned to dust again,
and tiie spirit unto to God who gave it.
It was a tempestuous night. Ti.c rain
pourrd down in torrents. Tiie lightnings
gleamed luridly. At midnight l entered the
1 apartment. A solitary taper gleamed dis
mally on the hearth. The forms of those in
the room appeared like gloomy shadows,
flitting to and fro. A stifled sob, and the 1
| ticking ota watch on the table, were the only
sounds; and they struck like a barbed arrow
to my heart. I observed her hand beckoning.
Her fiend was raised witli pillows. A smile
shot from her glaz'ng eye. She essayed to
speak. I bent down rnv head with eagerness
to catch the 1 ,st wisperings of her voice.
T lere was a pause. Site made signal to
those about her t > repress their emotions, as
they valued her last legacy. Tiie sobs ceased,
the groans were scarcely audible, and the tear
stood still upon the cheek of the mourner.
“Ah! that is kind,” si e began in a voice is
soft as music. Nature must have her course.
The sou. tains of grief were too full. They
burst the barriers which prudence would have
fiiin erected, and poured forth in a torrent,!
sweeping a!! before them. A erv, long, loud
and piercing, filled the apartment. She east
back a look of sorrowful reproach.
She arose in her couch. A paroxysm of'
coughing seized her. She writhed fir a mo
ment in convulsive agonies, and then 101 l hack
upon the pillow. A gleam oflightning, bright,
dazzling, appalling, shot through the case-'
me it. She was dead ! “ Let us pray !” ex
claimed the reverend pastor; and with one
accord, the assembly knelt, while, at the noon
of night, he offered up a fervent prayer. It
was short, hut clothed in the poetic language
of the Scriptures. It spoke of the silver cord
be ng loosed,and the goided bowl bong broken.
It was finished. We arose from our knees,
cast one look at the emaciated form of the de
parted, and left the apartment.
AMUSEMENTS.
They who look with a severe and indignant
eye upon all the recreations by which the cares
of men arc relieved, and the union of society
is cenn nted, are, in two respects, injurious to
religion. First they exhibit it to otliets under
a forbidding form, by clothing it with the garb
of so much austerity. And next, they deprive
the world of the benefit which their example
might afford, in drawing the line between
innocent and dangerous pleasures. By a
temperate participation of those which are
innocent, they might successfully exeit that
authority which a virtuous and respectable
character always possesses, in restraining such
undue excess. They would show the young
and unwary at what point they ought to stop.
They would have it in their power to regulate,!
in some degree, the public manners, to check
extravagance, to humble presumption, and put
vice to the blush. But through, injudicious'
severity, they fall short of the good they might
perform. Bv an indiscriminate censure of all!
amusement, they detract from the weight of
their reproof, when amusement becomes un
doubtedly sinful. But totally withdrawing
! themselves from the circle of cheerful life,
! they deliver lip the entertainments of society
j into the hands of the loose and the corrupted :
| and permit the blind power of fashion, uncon
trolled, to establish its own standards, and to
! exercise its dangerous sway over the wot Id.
Blair.
Strange tai.e.—lxrr.l T being out of town, bis
house was left in charite of* female setvant. The plate
was lodged at his banker'*. A letter came to say that
hi* lordship would he in town on such * day, and de
siring that 'he pl*re might he got ready ihr eve ling be
fore. The servant took die letter to my lord'* brother,
who sai 1 there wa* no doubt of the hand-*riting.—
The hanker expressed the same certainty, and ininn -
mediately delivered the pla'e. The servant being ap
prehensive of thieve-, spoke to the lr butcher, who lent
her a stout dog, which was shut up in the room with
the pla’e. Next mormg a man was found dead in ibi
room, lii* throat being torn out by the dog; and upon
examination, it proved to be my lord’s brother. The
matter was carefully hushed, and u report spread that
he wa* gone abroad.
From the Texas Telegraph.
CANON DE VBALDE.
Tiiis term designates a beautiful valley in
the Cominanche country, situated north-west
of Bexar, and about sixty miles distant from
that city. From its peculiar situation, ern
bossomed among high and precipitous hills,
and within the hunting grounds of hostile
savages, it has been, until within a few months
almost entirely unknown to our citizens.
Recently, several parties of the citizens of
Bexar and other places have visited it, and
have furnished such glowing descriptions of
the beauty of its scenery and tlic surpassing
fertility of its soil, that we are induced to be
lieve it rivals in beauty and seclusion the
fancied “ happy valley” of Amhara. It is
about twenty miles long, and varies in width
from two to five miles, its greatest length being
from north to south. The hills on every side
rise abrubtly from the bottom of the valley,
and present in many places, perpendicular
walls of rock seveial hundred feet high. At
the foot of these lulls, numerous springs issuing
form rings which unite near the middle of the
valley in a beautiful rivulet, that after mean
dering throughout nearly its whole extent, at
length (lows through a deep gorge at its south
ern extremity. A narrow belt of woods ex
tends along the margin of this stream, and
small islets of timber are scattered at intervals
over the surface of the vallev, forming a pleas
ing contrast with the open grassy plains of the
prairie and the grey rugged precipices of the
surrounding hills. The only passage from
the valley towards the north, is a narrow cleft
in the locks, about eight feet wide, winding
through cliffs three or four hundred feet high.
The path through this cleft gradually ascends
until at the distance of about three miles from
the valley, it opens upon the extensive table
lands northwardly above, and which are ap.
parentlv illimitable in extent. This narrow
pass affords the only convenient path within
the distance of many miles, by which the
Cnmmanches can dose aid with their horses
to the country bordering the sea coast. A
tradition is current at Bexar, that many years
since a party of Spanish soldiers who had de
feated a company of Commanches, pursued
them througli the Canon de Übalde nearly to
the middle of this pass, when they found the
passage completely obstructed by the carcasses
of four or five dead horses, which these Indians
had killed, and in this manner, prevented the
further progress of their pursuers. This valley
is the great thoroughfare of the Indians. Col,
Karnes has informed us that parties nflndians
may be seen in it almost constantly ascending
or descending. Tlic outlet of this valley to
wards the south is a narrow gorge between
the hills, and is about three hundred yards
wide, affording a passage for the rivulet, which
flows into the Rio Fr;o. An opinion prevails
in Bexar, that there is a rich vein of native
silver in one of the rifts or gorges opening into
this valley, and it is said, Deaf Smith obtained
a large piece of this silver from the vein which
was shown to him by an Indian whom he found
wounded in tlic prairie, and whose affections
he won by kind treatment. This, however,
is altogether improbable, as the geologicial
features oftlie country do not indicate the pre
sence of native silver. The rocks of tliis re
gion belong to t-e second ry formation, and
consist chiefly of grey limesto le, arranged in
horizontal beds. This valley will form one of
die best situations for the frontier force. Col.
Karns has informed us, that fifty brave men
could easily defend the pass at its nothern ex
tremity against the united warrors of the whale
Cominanche tribe. If a small fort were erec
ted at this place, the valley would soon be
settled by enterprising and industrious jilanters
and uii,it lias been from time immemorial n
beautiful de-ert, would soon be transformed to
a modern Kden.
CALM THOUGHT.
There is nothing which makes so great a
difference between one man and another, ns
the practice of calm and serious thinking. To
those who have been unaccustomed to it, there
is required at first an effort; but it is entirely
in their own power to repeat tins effort if thev
will, and when they will. It becomes every
day easier by perseverance and habit—and
the habit so acquired exerts a material influence
upon their condition as responsible and im
mortal beings. In that great process, there
fore, in which consists the healthy condition of
any man as a moral being, there is a most im
portant step, of which he must be conscious
as an exercise of his own mind. You fee!
that you have here a power, however little you
may attend to the exercise of it. You can di
rect your thoughts to any subject you please;
you can confine them to objects which are lie
fore you at the time, or occurrences which
have passed during the day—or you can send
them back to events which took place many
years ago. You can direct them to persons
whom you are in the habit of meeting fiom
day to day, <>r to those who are separated from
you by thousands of miles. You can place
before you persons who lived, and events which
occurred long before you came into existence,
and jou can anticipate and realize events
which are not likely to occur until you have
ceased to exist. Study these wondrous pro
cesses of your mind ; observe what power you
have over them, and what consequences of
eternal importance must arise from exercising
them aright. If you can thus think of anv
subject you please, why cannot you think of
God—of bis power, his wisdom, his holiness,
his justice—of his law which he has written in
your heart, and in his revealed word? Why
cannot you think of, and realize the period
when you shall lie down in the grave; and
that tremendous moment when all that are in
their giaves shall hear the voice of the Son of
God, and they that hear -shall live, and shall
arise to judgment f Such truths as these, duly
considered, or thought of, could not fail, under
divine influence, to exercise a powerful effect
upon all our habits of thinking and acting in
this life.
Fish in fashion. —When fashions arc worn out at
ran*, ilia milliner* send 'he antiquated articles to tlie
north, that is, to Sweden or Itiis-m. A vessel deeply
laden with such merchandise was run down in tlie
channel of St. Petersbiirgh. Next day n salmon was
caught in the Neva, dressed in a white satin petticoat;
and in the same net were found two Inrgc end, with
iiin-lin handkerchief* around their necks. The sharks
and porpoise* were observed in gowns of the latest
! in-te ; and hardly wa* there a flail that did not display
1 some "l the Ire-host I'uriMun lusliions that ever had
i vi«ited the North."
When you hear an old bachelor inveighing
against the extravagance of woman—infer that
be has never calculated the hundreds of dollars
he has spent for wines and cigars.
When you hear a person recommending
quack medicine as au infalliable remedy :n all
diseases—infer that lie tias the organ of wonder
largely developed, and the reflective faculties
i very moderate.
When you hear a young wife constantly
j complaining of her help— infer that she does
j not understand house-keeping.
\V hen you hear a maiden lady boasting the
inany offers ol marriage she has rejected—in
fer that she is a 'ittle cruzv.
When you hear a young man speaking
1 iight'y of family attachments, and ridiculing
liis old relations—infer that he is a weak
minded youth, and will make a perverse and
uncomfortable companion.
When you hear a mother boasting of the
lieautv and accomplishments of her daughters
—infer that she intends they shall secure rich
husbands.
When you bear a married man depreciating
female intellect, and denouncing female influ
encc—infer t'ait lie is not as wise as Sir Tho
mas Moore, or bis wife is n simpleton.
When you hear a married woman talking
of.cn of female rights —infer that she is not
very conscientious about performing her du- '
ies.
When you find a poor man envying and
revilling tlic rich—infer that he is an aristocrat
in bis heart.
When you find a rich man who despises
and oppresses the poor—infer that his grand
children will go out to service.
When you hear an author raiding against
tiie stupidity of the age, and declaring that he
writes only for posterity—infer that he means
the pastry cook.
When you hear a ciitic unjustly severe in
condemning a liteiarv production—infer that
the work has wounded his pride, vanity, or
self-interest.
When you hear an editor abusing liis bro
thers of the quill—infer that his genius lies in
the scissors.
When you hear a poet often repeating liis
own rhymes—infer that they are seldom re
peated by any other admirers.
When you hear a young lady declare that
she hates all men—infer that some particular
one has touched her fancy.
When you hear a collegian talk of bulls,
parties, races, and tlic theatres—infer that he
stands low in his class.
W hen you hear a boarding-school miss
speak disrespectfully to her mother—infer that
she has never studied in the school of “ Good
Manners.”
MEMORY.
Who has not lingered over the memory of
the past? Who has not felt, ns the shadows
of departed years have flitted before him, how
sweet it is to conjure up in memory’s magic
c re'e, reminiscences of by-gone pleasures and
unforgotton joys? Such moments are the
Sabbaths of the mind. Tnen it is that the
j heart holds communion with the spirit of its!
departed joys—then it is that the soul feels sis
best affections stirring up from their hallowed
j depths—and then it is that every sweet emo
t.on—eve y generous feeling—every pure
thought, rushes forth, at the call of nature,
from his hiding place—the heart! Oh! there
is. in such moments of recollected bliss, a plea
sure which can make us even love itself, with
all its deep regret for past errors, and all its
dark forebodings of future evil! How sweetly
does the m iid associate the memory of de
parted happiness, with every beauteous object
that gives .t present enjoyment; every star
with its beauty—every flower with its fra
grance—every murmuring stream—every
gushing fountain, flashes back upon the mind
as with a mirror’s power, some pleasing remi
niscences of past enjoyments. We associate'
with all those bright and beautiful objects, the
remembrance of vanished scenes—of child
j hood’s sunny hours—of school-boy days of
I happiness, ana all tliose sweet and soothing
recollections, which Ibmithe ‘fairest flowers
m memory’s urn ;’ and although the c joys
may have forever vanished—although they are
whelmed in the deep, wide ocean of the past,
still their shadows maybe recalled, and that
pearl-diver, Memory, can bring them up again.
IMPORTANT invention.
Several experiments have lately been made
in presence of a number of noblemen and
gentlemen of rank, with a curious invention,
Having for its object the prevention of acci
dents from horses in harness taking fright or
wilfully running away. Tlie machinery, with
but trifling expense, can be applied to carriages,
cabs, or any other description of vehicles, the
mode of its operation is as follows: —A spring
or a silken line similor to a bell pull, is affixed
to the most convenient part of a carriage or
cab, and attached underneath the conveyance;
to a spindle or small steel bar near the ax!e!
tree. This spring being touched, or line 1
pulled, immediately causes the spindle to set
in motion two small cog-wheels, which act on
each, and which are close to the nave of the
w heel, and thus a pair of reins, manufactured
of catcut, and covered with leather from the
horses’ bits, and attached to the spindle, are
wound up on the principle of a crane, in a
few seconds, and the wild careerof the restive j
animals stopped, yet at tlie same time so gra
dually tis riot to injure them by bringing them j
too suddenly on their haunches. The opera
tor must keep tlie line m his hand until the oh-1
ject be effected, and instantly, on his releasing!
the same from his grasp, the check on the!
horses w ill he removed, and the animals set at'
liberty.
It is stated that a child inside the carriage
can, w ith ease and pleasure, stop the most spi
rited and nQweiful cattle, supposing the reins
to he broken, or the coachman’s command,
over a vicious or unruly team lost. The in- j
tent ion is patented. London Atlas, j
IMMENSE CHIMNEY.
A chimney has lately been r-ected at New
ton. England, which is tlirae hundred and
ninety-seven feet high.
NEGROPHOBIA
Is tie new mime given to those who are
unfortunately possessed with the disease of
i abolition. I
O II I G T N A L.
For the Southern Post
MIDNIGHT FANCIES N O . 2.
BY JAMIE.
“By Holy Earth, I am the solemn Night."— |(J
Night’s solemn mantle over earth is cast,
Like sorrow, sitting heavily upon the mourner’s brow
Like anger, clouding o’er once love-lit eyes • '
Like the dark grave, when shadowy death
His unrelenting hand has laid on mortal forms
Who, hut now, in the full glow of life,
Rejoiced in their strength !
I Tow like to death is night! and how like life is dnv!
Morning,noon, twilight, night-youth, manhood, old age-
And death ! well shadowed forth, as if the Make
would
Some warning symbol of his great intent mv e u , to
mortals! “
Row like to-night is death—and the bright morn—
Type of the great awakening:
When, summoned by the archangel’s trump,
S mis seek and animate the fledt they filled ■
Wi.en, bursting forth from darkness into perfect dav
The happy soul throws ofT the gloom and lethargy ’ o f
night!
Tis night—the busy hours of dav have fled,
Numbered amongst the things that were.
The scorching sun has drawn his fiery forces off
And the parched earth most joyfully sucks up
I he heaven-distilled and renovating dew.
The drawing flowers hold up their sinking heads,
To catch the evening’s cooling breath—they breathe
New life, and are prepared to meet again,
The sun’s full rays.
The sweetly singing birds,
With tiny heads turned ’ucatii the downy wings,
Forget the songs, the joys, the cares of day,
The sportsman’s stealthy tread, the hawk’s
Swift wing and fearful claw.
The generous steed
Proud, though subjected to creation's Lord,
(’Tis so vain man has styled himself—it is but
Vicegerant of a higher, stronger power.)
The meek, the long enduring, patient ox
All things in balnry sleep forget, whilst they
Prepare to meet the toils of day.
Sleeps rests on wearied eyes. Tlic laboring man
1 inds truth in w hat is said, “ his sleep is sweet
Innocence reposes softly—no heart piercing thoughts
Can burden the pure mind—no stain, no guilt,
No thought of guil'—how sweetly sleep the innocent!
1 lie intact, pillowed os his mother’s breast,
The mother pressing to lu r heart her youngest boon.
The youth, whom worldly cares may not distract,
The aged man,-his wearied life soon to be spent,
AU softly sleep.
Who is there that sleeps not ?
The murderer, stared in the face by crimes,
Shrill voiced conscience in his guilty soul.
Keeps up her never ending din.
The wretched gambler, still allured by hope,
Frenzy, despair, or what ha terms fate;
His very soul set on the chances of the dice.
The inebriate—he who in the flowing ho .vl woul I drown
Remorse, or care, or grief, though each drop of the
sweet poison
Adds weight unto his load of shame.
I lie scholar, bending o'er some ancient tower,
Seeking the precious treasures of the mind,
How oft he turns 'with wearied hand the page
In Vain—scholar, go sleep. »
The votary of Fame, scheming to gain
He knows not what, yet scheming ever; ’
The day and night are all as one to him,
Last in his idle dreamings of an empty name.
These may not sleep.
* * * * *" *
Florence, Ga., Feb. 1839.
LETTERS FROM TIIE WEST INDIES—No. fi.
A LEVEE.
Si. proix, January, 1339.
To the Editor of the Southern Post:
Dear Sir—Yesterday being the beginning of the new
year, when it is customary for all who feel so disposed,
to pay a ceremonial visit to Itis Excellency, the Cap
tain General of the Danish Colonies, resident on the
Island, I went in company with some American and
Danish friends, for that purpose.
Our road lay through the most beautiful part of the
Island, if indeed any distinction can be made in class
ing its beauties. For the whole distance the estates
bordering on the road being in a high state of cultiva
tion, rich in the luxuriant growth of the sugar cane, the
highway skirted, and the different estates separated,
by avenues of palm and coeoanut trees, planted with
great accuracy. I think indeed, and have often ex
pressed the opinion in my daily ride--, and have as of-
ton beard it repeated by others, that the palm is the
most beautiful tree in the world. The trunk or shaft
has the full form and proportions of a handsomely turn
ed column from the lathe, the shade Lei nit generally a
light lend color, turniout.U and with a bright cap of green
i and a rich green foliage. In many places the groves
j are alternately planted with mamee tree, a form and
foliage very difleri nf, and of the deepest green, but ve
ry thick, and a trunk covered with branches nearly to
the ground.
Cn our way we called and spent an hour at an es
tate where my Danish friend was visiting, for a few
days, liy invitation, with a planter. We had here the
opportunity of seeing the negroes of the estate in one
of their happy bolyday galas. A chosen couple were
dressed in all the glitter of tinselled finery, as King
and Queen, and marched, attended by all the mem
bers of the regal cottage, into their master’s house, tj
exercise such privileges and amusements as are usual
on holydays here, dancing, singing, &c. There can
scarcely, indeed, be a happier people in the world.
One of the most beautiful estates on the road is Ho
gensbe.g, belonging to the Governor, and occasionally
occupied by him when he wishes for a relaxation from
public business in the quiet retirement of the country.
The mansion house, though not more than one or two
hundred yards from the road, is so deeply buried in
overgreen shrubbery, as to be scarcely seen that d;s
tance —its grounds are said to be very elegant.
Beulo's Minda, our present destination, was in full
view several miles before we reached it, with the royal
banner of Denmark flying ovet it. It stands on a very
high hill, fourteen miles from West End, and two from
Basin, which town it immediately overlooks Anlx
cellent winding road, passing half way round the hill,
brought us, in a few minutes, to the summit, and im
mediately before the entrance. We were scarcely at
the door befiro we were met by the liveried s rvantsof
the establishment, wh i ushered us into the hall, where
we w ere met aid inv 'e l to seats, by the Governor,
who enter ained our company very sociably for a few
moments. Expressing some curiosity to see the orna
mental grounds, his Excellency’s son was so good as
to conduct us through the garden, » here we found seme
shrubbery and rare flowers; and from the point of the
hill, had a splendid | anoromie view of the surround
ing country—the towns of Christeustead, with its har
bor and shipping at our feet the sea on both sides, and
tlie Hands of Bt. Thomas, St. Johns, and Tortola, in
the distance.
Having feasted our senses with this extensive and va
negated prospect, we returned to the house,’ where,
finding the hull crowding with company, we gave hi*
I Excellency n parting salutation, and departed.
Vice-Governor-Gcnerai Johannes Von Sobotker, act