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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