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or Mi JriJ, for a year or*©', to finish your trade with the very first masters —there they make beautiful shoes —then you shall have a store in Broadway, a small capital will set you up iij business, and do you not think that the la dies of the city wo'jid p refill a well educated gentlemanly young man, with a gool address and a perfect master of hs art to t tke measure of their delicate feet, than a clumsy, rough looking rude fellow, with his sing-rs all over wax ? Certainly. You wool Ibe every where patronised--your work would lie praised, and vour fortune soon made. Now is this not better than putting a pair of specs on vour nose—a threadbare coat on your hack— Blackstone in your han Is, waiting day after day fir a client ?” “ Well, but father.” said he! “ you will give as much money as I want when lam a mm—t tore is no use in my working.” •' Yes, but there it is my boy; yen must eirn money by your industry—were 1 to give you money and bring you up in idle, ness; wh.at would become of you when the money was ail gone?” The little fellow did not exactly understan 1 the philosophy of such conclusions, but as lie grows older ho will view the matter in a proper light. After all said, much depends on the good council of mothers in laying the foundation for a sound super structure in the minds of their sons.—Let a widow left only in moderate circumstances, have four intelligent well educated boys, who have honorably and successfully served out their times in some mechanical business, and see how much more comfortable are her pros, pects in her oi l age, than ifshe had four boys, depending on precarious professional pursuits (Its living. This reasoning partially applies to daugh ter, who aro by far less troublesome and diffi cult to manage than sons. It is incredible how many avenues to comfort and employ ment are open to girls, if they are industrious ly disposed. Thco aro three young ladies, daughters of a respectable hut moderate cir cumstanced fimil,’, remarkable for neatness of dress and reserved manner attributed by many to pride. Calling in at rather an unu sual visiting hour, 1 found the mother and daughters employed in making shirts, for which thoy received only a shilling a piece, and they frankly informed me that they clothed them selves entirely by the needle. The cause of their pride was thus explained—it was the pride of conscious independence. From the Knickerbocker. REV. MR. BASCOM'SSKETCIIOF THE GREAT CATARACT. The following picture of Niagara, is from the pen of an eloquent divine, witii whose (ugh reputation our readers toe not unacquainted. To those who have seen the Falls, it will re commend itself for its vivid truth ; and to those who base n >t, we commend tlte writer’s intio ductoi y ru»!e to the editor. “ My Dear Sir : In complying with your request, to furnish you with the following let ter, for publication, in the Knickerbocker Mag. azine. 1 must claim the protection of one of the most indulgent canons of criticism ; that which suggests, tiiat very production, claiming to be a mere revelation of personal impression and private feeling, should be judged of mainly in view of the min I’s peculiar state, in giving it birth. The annexed sketch, except the last paragraph, was written upon an angle of* Ta ble Rock,’ at the instance, a id for the exclus aivc gratification, of a fric id, and without any tho most remote, reference to publication, then er subsequently. It was produced under the influence of high-wrought feeling, and does lit tle moro than reveal the heart’s mythology, in presence of one of the most fearful manifesta tions of the power and grandeur of physical nature. If the feeling which gave birth to the fragment you have asked for nrblication, bo responded to by the reader, I have nothing farther to hope for. Very truly and sincerely, H. B. BASCOM.’ York, February, 1833. Cataract of Niagara, September 9, 18—. My Dear E ; I have seen, surveyed and communed with the whole!—and awed and bewildered, as if enchanted before the re veal merit of a mystery. I attempt to write. You ask me, in your last, for some detailed veritable account of the Falls, and should be glad to ratify you ; but ho’.v shall less iv to paint a scene, that so utterly baffles all concep tion, and renders worse than fruitless everv at tempt at description ? In five minutes after my arrival, on the evening of the fifth, I descended the winding-t ath from the ‘Pavilion,’ on the Canadian side, and for tire first time in my life was this unequalled cascade from ‘ Table Rock;’ the whole indescribable scene, in bold outline, bursting on my view at once. I had heard and read much, and imagined more, ol what was before me. I was perfectly familiar with the often-told, the far-travelled story of what I saw ; but the overpowering reality on which 1 was gazing, motionless as the rock on which 1 stool, deprived me of recollection, an nihilated all curiosity ; and with‘"emotions of sublimity till now unfult, and all uneartly, tire involuntary exclamation escaped me, ’ God oj Grandeur ! what a scene /’ But the majesty of the s’ght, and the inter est of the moment, how depict them? Tire huge amplitude of water, tumbling in foam above, and dashing o.i, arciied and pillared as it gl des, until it reaches the precipice of ttie chute, and then, in one vast column, bounding, with mad .dening roar and rush, into the depths beneath, ■presents a spectacle so uuutteralr y appalling, that language falters; words are no longer signs, and 1 despair giving you any adequate idea of what I saw and felt. Yet this is not all- The eve and tire miad necessarily take in other objects, as parts of tire grand panora ma ; forests, cliffs, ant] islands ; banks, and Foams, and spray ; woo-1-rock, and precipice; dimmed with the rising fug and mist, and ob scurely glided by tire softening tints of the ruin bow. These all l>elong to tho picture; aid tire effect of the wlrulo is immeasurably height ened, by the noise of the cataract, and remind mg you of tire rexrliemtioiis ot tho heavens hi a tem|rest, and then of t re eternal roar of lire ocean, when angered by the winds* Tire concave Uo I of rocks, fionr which the water falls, tome two hundred foot, into lire ul most boundless reservoir beneath, is tiro sec f'ou of a circle, which at first sight, from Table Rock, presents something like the geometrical curve of the rainbow; and the wonders of the j grand ‘ concert,’ thus advantageously thrown upon tire eye in combination, and tire a* pro- j priate sensations and conceptions heightened by the crash and boom of the waters, render j ’.lie sight more surpassingly sublime, than any , j tiring I have aver looked upon, or conceived el. j As it regards m , thoughts and feelings at the | time, 1 can help you to no conception of their ! character. Overwhelming astonishment was ,j I tire only bond between thought and thought; land wild, and vague, and boundless, were the' 1 associations of tire hour! Before me, the strength and fulness of the congregated ‘lakes of tire north,’wereenthroned and concentrated, within a circumference embraced by a single glance of the eye 1 I It#e 1 saw, rolling and dashing, at the rate of twenty hundred millions of tons per day, nearly one half of all the fresh' w iter upon Ihc surface of the globe! On the American side, I beheld a vast deluge, nine; j hundred feet in breadth, with a fall of one hnn- j dred an l eighty or ninety, met, fifty feet above j the level of the gulf, by a huge projection ofj j rock, which seems to break the descent and | continuity of the flood, only to increase its fierce and overwelming bound. And turning *o the ‘crescent,’ I saw the mingled rush of foam and tide, dashing with fearful strife and ! desperate emulation—four hundred yards of the sheet rough and sparry, and the remaining itliree hundred a deep sea-like mass of living green—rolling and heaving like a sheet oi em erald. Even imagination failed me, and I could think of nothing but oceans let loo>e from his bed, and seeking a deeper gulf below ! 'l’lre 'fury of the water, atthe termination of its fall, combined with the columned strength of the ! cataract, and the deafening thunder of the flood, aro at once inconceivable and indescribable, j No imagination, however creative, can corres pond with the grandeur of the reality. I have already mentioned, that it is import - | an 1 that you keep it in view, the !< dge of rock, the verge of the cataract, rising like a wall ol equal height,& extending in semi-circular form ’across the whole bed of the river, a distance of more than two thousand feet; and the im petuous flood, conforming to this arrangc -1 meat, in making its plunge, with n ountain weight, into the great horse-sht e basin be neath, exhibits a spectacle of the sublime, in I geographical scenery, without perhaps a par allel in nature. As 1 leaned over Table Rock, and cast my eye downward upon the billowy turbulence of the angry depth, where the wa ters were tossing and whirling, coiling and springing, with the energy of an earthquake, and a rapidity that almost mocked my vision, I found the scene sufficient to appal a sterner spirit than mine; and I was glad to turn away and relieve my mind t>y a sight of the surround ing scenery ; bays, islands, shores, and forests, every where receding in due perspective The rainbows of the * crescent’ and American side, which are only visible from tiie w stern bank oftiie Niagara, and in the afternoon, seem to diminish somewhat from the awfulness of the scene, and to give it an aspect of rich and mellow grandeur, not unlike the bow of prom ise, thawing its assuring r dianee over the re tiring waters of the deluge. The ‘ rapids.’ which commence nearly a rule above tne cataract, and sparkling in the sun, spread out before the eyelike a sea ofdiamonds seem admirably to give notice of what awaits below, and when examined from a position j on Gout-Island, become extremely interesting, I from the dash and foam of the broken flood, ; the no'se of which, distinct from that of the ’great fall, would remind you of the lofty mur murs of an Alpine forest, in the rising swell of the coining storm. In crossing the river Inflow the Falls, you have one of the richest views ol the whole cascade, that can possibly be ima gined ; and the rising bank and the ntossy | rock, the ofty trees, and luxuriant shnbbery, | on either side, are in fine keeping with the; scene, and are essential to the unity and com-1 pleteness of the picture. But vvhat most inter-: ested me here, was the tumultuous tossing and i whirling of the water, where its depth must be j more than two hundred feet, and its width at least seven hundred yards. The whole mass seems to be heaving with infuriate life. A j thousand counter-currents and eddies meet, j break, and mingle, in the general 4 torrent and j whirlwind’ of the waters. Within a circum. | ferencc of two or three hundred yards, and ; near the American shore.-this singular action j of the element gives the water an elevation of j from five to seven feet, above the ordinary lev el ; and the strong conflicting currents are seen tossing and struggling with volcanic force, like the Adriatic turned up from tho bottom of a I tempest. But the most appaling combination of won der and awo was ieh, when, after descending | the spiral stair-case at Table Rock, I passed under the great falling sheet. Divesting my i seif of the more burthensome part of my | clothes, and girding an oil-cloth mantle about [ j me, with a hood for the protection of the head, j 1 entered tile hollow space, half luminous, half obscure, between the projecting rock and tlie boundless mass of water pouring over its arch, like a sea of molten lead. In this way I pro ceeded one hundred and fifty or sixty feet, to 4 Termination Rock,’ a point beyond wiiich iK> human being has ever been penetrated ; j and here, amid a tempest of wind and spray, almost depriving n.e of respiration, I paused to look up and around, awed and agitated by the stiriog grandieur and sombre mystei ious- I ness of all I could hear or see! The edge of the precipice, over which the water falls, is a j projection of about fifty feet over the base where I stood. After remaining here for sev. era! minutes, and selecting some pebbles from ! the path at my feet, with an increased sense of danger, 1 effected my retreat, sincerely thank ful, that I had not purchased tlte gratification of mv curiosity with the loss of my life. I spent four days ami nights, witn the exception of n few hours for rest, in the examination of the Falls, and in solitude with the majesty of tlte engrossing scene—a majesty all its own—un typed and unshadowed by ought I had ever seen lieforc ; ami having surveyed the great object of my visit, from nearly an hundred different points of view, I was more than satisfied, that the Cataract of Niagara is a wonder in nature, wiioly unique in its kind, and affording n rich, if not an unequalled harvest, of interest and observation, to every Ufliolder. Indeed, na lure serin* to have done tier work here in a mool and upon a scale of the most creative THE SOUTHERN POST. prodigality; con-ulting alike, ns the Fagan | poet would say, her own amusement, and the I admiration of man. Mv last look at the Falls was a night view, j from the upper portion of the Pavilion ; and brilliant lamps and mooned lovliness of an au , tumual heaven added to the splendor of the vi sion. From this point, amid the tremulous I shaking of theearth and the heaven, in silent communion with the mighty cataract, the eye I strikes in a more extended range —the most magnificent of prospects. The whole scene ! ry, diversified and yet one, is spread out before you in living beauty and pieteresque majesty. You see the plains and forests above, the cliffs, and rocks, and islands, around ; the dreadful precipice, and the bold sweep of the watery mass, while the fall of the vast pervading col umn strikes your ear, like the thunder-chorus of the 4 vasty deep,’ warring with is bound. I felt about me a heart-reaching, a spirit stirring influence, that detained me until mid night ; and when I retired, fatigued and t x hausted, and threw myself upon my pillow, it was onlyto f?el the more intensely the [ ower and expression, the oneness, tlie depth, the nameless grandeur, of the scene: and ear and thought still lingered, to catch and commune j with the far-off ehidmgs of the Flood, as they wailed to the one the requiem of departed wa ters, and murmured to the other the inelanc o !y dirge of their passing away ! From the Southern Literary Messenger. THOUGHTS AND REFLECTIONS. All immaterial things have their material types, and the type of God’s love is the world surrounding air,which encompassed) and per vaded) all earildy things. “ The breath, whose might I have invoiced in song, j Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng, Whose sails were never to the tempest given. The massy earth and sphered skies are riven; I am borne darkly, fearfully afar; , Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the eternal are." Shelley “ Time, with all its celerity, moves slowly on to him whose whole employment is to watch its flight.” The continuance of grief is like that of cloud. When it is very serene, it soon weeps itself a way—like the short-lived thunder-clouds of: summer : but when destined to last long, it is j rarely very violent in the commencement— like the long-continuing clouds of winter. When after a lapse . rs time we revert to the precise moment at which we first became ac quainted with persons, with whom we have 1 since been on intimate terms —who have since peilmps greitjy influenced our desti y—we I are almost astonished at the indifference which ;we then felt towards them. Could we have then forseen the powerful influe ce which 'they were afterwards to exert upon our future jlife, with what deep, with wiiat overwhelming ■ feelings, would we have met them- When thus looking back, from our knowing them so well now, it appea s stru )ge, that there ever j should have been a time when we we re uuac j quainted witii t lem. | Save in the wild dreams of his imagination, the poet does not dwell in the prese. t: his thoughts arc fixed upon tlie misty and legend- I ary past, with its numberless .thrilling assecia itions ; or upon the vieled future, wiiich be men tally figures as an altar »o bis genius—a temple j for his fame. The love of hearing news, generally coin cides in his intensity with the love of commu ; moating it. i Though there lie no such essences as cksti !ny, yet some persons are so mentally consti 'tuted, that their dispositions will as surely lead them to pursue a certain c >urse of eou luct (throughout life, as if they had been impressed j with the seal of fate. We frequently have ideas of persons whom ’ wo have never seen, as to their figure and np ! fienruncc, and we imagine some symmetry or (agreement between their figures, talents and character. I his, in my mind, has been parti-1 cularly the case with respect to most eminent j men in public life. It may arise in some in a- j (sure fioni the associations connected with the ; '•ot nd of the name, (see Blair’s Riet. library cdi. lect. vi, p. 61.) or the name itselfof ihe person- Or it may result from tiie mental j view ns to form, which we ‘aka off something: 1 material or immaterial connected with or ap pertaining to the person ; (for, in the mind's! !eye, immaterial as well as material tilings, it! appears to me, assume some form, however shadowy,) as, for instance, tlie leader of a po iit'eal party appears to our mental sight, in the same shadowy aspect as his party itseif does. Tiie desire of fame is given us by our Cre ditor, not so especially for our own good, as for j that of others. Analogy, with tlie generality of m mkind, is I the most convincing mode of reasoning, be- i cause it particularly gratifies our strongly in herent love of order. And scarcely any the ory is fully and confidently believed and trust- ( ed in, unless it be in consonance with analogy. Historians must frequently err in deducing the motives and characters of persons from 'their actions. For how numerous are tlie mo tives that impel us to any line of onduct: how complicated in their iutertexture; how fee- J jquently are they what no one would guess them to be. We frequently me it with cursory remarks j in books, or bear them in co ■ vernation, which i dwell in our minds long afterwards; modify- j ; ing our trains of thought, increasing or dimin- 1 ! ishing our happiness, and thus sometimes in- j | fluencing the whole course of our hfe. The desire of fame in men, is substituted! in most women by the love of admiration.— Rut how short lived is this admiration—e\eu tliut paid to the greatest belie. Two or three ' | years pnst, and her reign is over, bring ter-1 I minuted by the age of marriage. To lie hap. [»y. she must never gaze on the future, but, must be wholly mtet t upon the present. Poet* and other persons of imaginative tern i perument, are apt to disbelieve tlie Bible, he. j j cause tlie idea tliere conveyed of tlie Deitv, | d<xs not seem to them sufficiently poetical. Men who study the moral, are much often er found to be superstitious than those who study tiie physical sciences. One reason for this, is, that many supe>stitious notions take their origin from the actions and phenomena of animals and other natural obji'Cts. Now the natural philosopher understands the cause and operation of these actions and phenom ena, which tlie moral philosopher does not, and he is therefore led to consider them to be su pematuraL Whensoever a person mentions to you a remark made to him by another individual, and bis remark is contrary to your knowledge of that individual’s character, always inquiie what led to his uttering this remark or opinion —what conversation preceded it. For we frequently advot ate opinions, and utter senti ments in the heat of argument, which we would be far from supposing in cooler mo ments. Frequently too, when we bear per sons or things rated in any particular point inuc i higher that they deserve, we, through a feeling approaching tiie indignation, raze much lower than they should be placed, and even much lower than we think them to deserve. And so. also, in some degree of tiie emit ra iv. Dr. lohnson very often acted in this manner. As every wave of the sea influences each j one subsequ« nt to it, so does every idea influ- '! ence a I those subsequently entering the mind, j! either modifying or calling them uu. In reading, we almost always identify things, persons and places, with those with which we are acquainted. Tue whole mental view, how ever, is not real, but mostly imaginary. Wnere the described object will not-woolly agree with j t‘‘e known one, (which indeed is almost al-! ways tlie case,) our indignation supplies that part which is wanting, so that the complex idea} is partly real and partly imaginary. In memory’s deep cavern, how many are tlie treasured thoughts, which we are wholly unconscious of possessing. A PAINFUL NIGHT SCENE ON BOARD A STEAM BOAT. A portion of the passengers on board the steam-boat Alabama, Captain Sutton, were not a little alarmed on Sunday last. The boat left Baltimore for Norfolk at four o’clock on j Satuidav afternoon, and by two o'clock the 1 next iiioi ning had accomplished the greater j I part of her voyage. At that solemn and qui- ( et hour, however, and when she was out in! Chesapeake Bay, several miles from land, a | report reached the gentleman’s cabin tiiat the boat was on fire / Tne effect of such intelligence at such an | hour, and under the circumstances described,! | vvas painful and unnerving in no ordinary de-j gree. In an instant, every individual wno*e i j ears were open to tlie appaling alarm, started j from his pillow, and hurrying on such clothing j as could be discovered in the darkness and J confusion, proceeded on deck. Tlie number ! embr iced but a small portion of the passen gers, and it was perhaps fortunate that so few wore awake. The firemen were observed bui • skly engaged in dragging the wood from be neath one of the boilers, and dashing water upon it; while one or tv\o of the passengers, more active than tiie rest, had already se zed the water buckets, in readiness for such occa-j sions, and made their way towards tiie furnace between decks. For tiie space of a few j minutes the scene was full of danger, horror j and despair. Some threw doubts upon taej story —others confirmed it—while all were dreadfully agitated. Tiie shore, on either side was shrouded in darkness and distance, and die waves as they leaped and garni tolled along, looked to the affrighted eve and mind like so many huge and living monsters readv to swallow up the unfortunate traveller who might be cons gned to their tender mercies. Various expressions passed from blood.deser ted and trembling lips- while a few stout hearts grew brave amid the danger, and endeavored j by kindly and conciliatory language, to cheer (the ti rni I and despondi ig. It was, indeed a ; moment of peril, and suited to test tiie courage, j the virtue mid philosophy of frail human na | ture. A party of four, engaged in the forward I cnb ii playing cards, weie among the most terrified. No wonder! The viss; ige of Death, [ always terrible, must have been especially so to such a group. They rus ed wildly on deck, and in a condition of almost breathless agitated. Their feelings may he better imagined than described, when we rcmcnilier that two hours of the sabbath hud already gone by. Fortunately the danger had been somewhat exaggeration. Tne boat was not on fire— but one of tlie boilers was in a very precarious condition, and it had been deemed essential to extinguish the fine under it, in order to pi event an explosion. The waste stop cock had been opened, with.the object of letting off the stir- I pi is steam, and had not been effectually closed ogam. Some time after, the Engineer, seeing tlie boiler beco ne unusually heated, tried the upper cock and ttieu tiie lower, and discovered with much alarm, that the water had fallen below both, while trie boiler had attained n dangerous heat ! Had he introduced cold water at this crisis, an explosion must have been inevitable. But he saw the difficulty, j and immediately ordered tlie bands to pull out tlie wood and extinguish the fire beneath the boiler. Th s they did, under some ex citement, but without erious difficulty. The passengers seeing them throw water upon tlie blazing wood, naturally enough thought the boat on fire and so gave the alarm. In the confusion and darkness some time elapsed before tlie real difficulty was made known generally, and not indeed until more than one had turned a thought inward and up. ward, and had looked out upon the broad and ; billowy bay with well founded alarm. Captain Sutton was perfectly cool and self possessed throughout the crisis, and it was discovered with pleasure, even after the danger! had passed away, that the boat was liberally provided with life preservers. Philadelphia Inquirer Antonio Perez says very happily that bv tlie echo nuture tenches men to beware of titcin. selves, since n secret is not even safe in soli, tude. win-re tliere is a witness which relate* everything. QUEEN VICTORIA. Th.c Richmond Enquirer publishes a lette from "Mr. Stevenson, oui minister to Grea Britain, in which he describes tlie person, at* pearance, and habits of the Queen of Greu Britain. Mr. Stevenson writes from opportu tntics of close and frequent observation, wli.c. tew persons, even of the highest rank in tly* kingdom, can have had. He says: Os the Queen, I suppose you will expect m • to say something, and express my npiiiioi® Tho press in both countries, gives the mo- . flattering accounts of her beauty, wisdom, Indeed it is the fashion hereto representli^* (as I suppose they do all Queens) as somethin - short only of Divinity. Now. I will tell yi* 4 vi ry frankly what I think offer, and I liuv ►had a fit ir opportunity of judging. As toiler *• person and face, they are pretty fairly leprw— sented in rnauv of the numerous paintings ut*«j prints, some ot which I suppose you have see* _ Stilly’s l think as good and pleasing a likeness-. as any that has been taken. Ii has been sea to Pniladelphia. None of them however ci -wj justice to the expression of the face. It ■ s cert inly not the sort that I should call hcau*_ ful—but, when ligliti and up by auimiied co* versnt’on. the face is full of expression, at * *| sweetness,a id strongly indicative of character- m~. Her naan tiers sue bland and unaflected: i deed tliere is a simplicity and frankness arwd engaging affability about her quite ieinarkaL*'; c for a Queen. Another striking thing is, t! » e total absence of all ambitious display or des* *-e for admiration which might be expected fre> so voting a pc son, and she a Sovereign. No one can approach tlie present Qm>«—»u without hetng struck, not only with here* and charming deportment, and that pccul * =1 ’ r ■ softness of disposition and temper, for she is so remarkable, but wifli tlie entirecck mand and repose of manner, which might be expected to guard a Sovereign of more rmd vunced years and experience. Sac has sides, nil the characteristic lon mtml good temper of tne En_lish. In relation to the Queen’s perumalhnf>"its, I understand she rises I»etweenß aii'l9,lire*-*]<• fasts at 10, devotvs herself to business til I 2 then exercises, generally oil horseback, * * nd that at a rapid pace, going at the rate of IO- 0 r 12 miles an hour. Os her horsenmnsh j j, | had an opportunity of judging, having my-—self lioen present in one of her excursions ofal 20 miles in about 2 hours ; and you, if she does not ride like Caesar, or 1 *—«jnt like Diana, she is yet one of the boldest finest female riders I ever saw. •Her attention to business is such, that I «jn derstand. if a despach comes while she i ,at dinner, she commonly rises and attends it, Siie has a turn and capacity for business, will, as she advances doubtless take n a deeper interest in affairs of stale than she *Joes at present. THE PRINTER. There is not a being in existence toils hxsrsrd er for the small sum he gets for his nucerxr—sing labors than tlie Printer. (It is looked cw pon by the mass as not being toilsome, but pr-m-u. cal proofs have convinced many to bi co* atm ry.) Tlie sun sheds its rays from day Kk day upon the labors of others but it is not so ti.e Printer—the midnight lights are burn w the morning star finds him at his post, faint _ but u iv.el ‘mg. ‘witn the incessant toil for the instruction, nmusenentund bene £=*t of the public, who do not appreciate or his exertions. Tin- Farmer looks to him for respecting tiie state of the Market, that he nny know whether he is fairly dealt with; tin— Me chanic and fin ises through the medium of the i—*rcss the difFicuJt Art, Structures andlmproveiw»entß of his business; tiie Merchant hastily cat cbes up the sheet arid interestingly peruses®, the column headed Marine Intelligence; the Pro fessionals, were it not for the Printer, vv-ould be unknown ; the sprightly Maid looks with a beaming eye at tlie Hymemal Depart* wient, to see who of her acquaintances have —mi rid o!'their ‘single blessedness,’ and per haps, it may be her turn next; and, se date and the thoughtful to the Obituary., anx ious to know when and which of their ft- Sends have passed from mortal to immortal exist In fhet were it not for tlie Printer, ak v*b*©uld be as 4 were under a cloud of darkness. And for this wiiat is the reward? “Who is that pale-faced person that always goes Imr-*- iedly and lie find the time to his n eals, holding «Hown his head with a sober and thoughtful l onk! “Heis a Printer.” “Oh only a Printer and thus said, the conversation cs to something else, (whatever it be,)that is r-Meeni ed of more consequence. Thus is the* Poor Printer’ treated, for services rendered. From theNew-Yoik^sr. AURORA. FROM THE GERMAN HERDER. Aurora was eouiplu.iiing among tlie gods that she, who was so highly praised by men, should be so little loved and sought by t hem; that those who sang her praises tlie lcr»udest should count her smiles the least. “ Repine not at your fate,” said the God. dess of VV isdom.“ is mine different? And tlien,” she proceeded, “ look upon who neglect you, ands *e for what rivals th«=— y ex change you. Look at them ns | how they lie in the army of sleepers, a *nd de cay hot 1 1 in body and soul. Hast tlio not, I indeed friends—hast thou not worshi ierse nough? The whole creation adores yo «i; all ; the flowers awake and clothe tliemscltm—» with j thv colors in new bridal beauty. Th& choir 1 of birds welcome you ; each one tries si new! strain to render happy your short stay. Tlie! laborious husbandman—the studious scholar despise von not; they drink from tlie cu|> which y ou offer them health and strength, pei*«re and activity; doubly happy since they enj«w you without vexation—undisturbedbyynnda -r bub. i tiling heard of sleepy fools. Do you it no pood fortune thut, utiprofanti, x ounre loied and enjoyed ? Among both goVs* and men. this is thought tVe highest fortw_»ne of Love.” Aurora blush at her ineoniiderate com-! filnint; mav her fortune lie tlie wiili r> f each fair one who resemble* tier in purity »n<-J inno. cence. Ask quick if you with to get a pret «y girl, and don't fake so for an answer. sfi.lt culture—gay’s machines. Silk is going ahead. The signs are mere aoi able for tlie cultivation of this new staple mil they were wlien tiie South began to t,, rn ’ ieir attention towards the g'Owili of cotton lire Moius Multicaulis, winch grows wiTi uch rapidity, that :t furnishes food f or tlie vorin, in tlie very Spring when it j* p| antei j urnishes one essential link towards its prxxtuc! on. The new i: vent ion of Machines for eeling and manufacturing the silk into various i>rms, enables the planter to turn his cocoon ,t once to account. The weakest part of our slave population, the young and the old may lie profitably employed ; and ns we lieard a Virginia Tobacco Planter declare tlie other evening, it would not be astonishing, if Gay’s Whine were to effect a singular revoliitioa in Virginia, b\ keeping many of our jeople ;-t home, who would otherwise have gone to the cotton regions of the South and South West— nnd by bringing more population and capital Ito our State, and thus creating anew and im poi taut element of her prosperity. Die public confidence seems indeed to in crease in t.iis new branch of Ihis ness, -it is lerv evident that the r.-ige for the Morus Multi c inlis wou'd have soon ev|*nded itself, unless its cultivation had been connected with tlie raising of silk. The multiplication of tlie tire during the present season, will be very con siderablc. Many of our farmers are devoting small portions of their land—from 20r3 up to 17 or 2t) acres. A Sik company near Washington has 400 acres in cultivation. But the mechanical, ingenuity of our country men, which exceeds that of any country in tlie world is already “ rising to the levei of tlie jneension” and striking out new machines for the manufacture oftiie cocoons into silk. Tlie best reel in France or Italy, is the Piedmon tese reel —but already tin-genius of Mr. Gay, of Connecticut, bis outstripped this boasted machine. This single improvement alone will give anew and wonderful impulse to the growth of the Mulberry, anu the raising of the worm. Our attention lias been drawn to this interesting subject by tlie visit of Mr. Gay to our city- II is reel has been cxliibitcd ai t.ie reading rooms in the Museum Building, and no one can see it without admiration arid de light. It has suggested tiie following reflec turns: Raising the Mulberry and feeding the silk worm, are already familiar to many, mid of easy accomplishment by all. The production of cocoons has in fact been a matter of amuse ment, if not a profit occasionally, and on a small scale, since before the Revolution ; but hitherto, insuperable difficulties have appeared to stand in the way of pushing it to the extent of making it a national staple. The chief ; impediments have consisted in the time and labor required to grow and gather food for tiie [worm, and in the absmec of suitable labor saving machinery for working up the beautiful product of its brief labors. True it is, that most excellent silk Iras been made from worms led on the white, and on our indigenous Mul berry trees; but these were of such slow growth, as to discourage tlie steam boat loco motive go ahead genius of our people— especially in the South. This first impedr ment has been completely removed by tiie introduction and rapid growth of the Morus Multicai hs, which springs with won lerfal quickness from birth to maturity, like tiie in sect, for which Providence obviously designed it; and the remaining difficulty, want of ma chinery to make the cocoons availiabie—seems now to have been most opportunely surmount ed !>y another invention of American ingenuity: jWe allude to G <y’.s Machinery, which has been exhibited for some days past in this city, jßy the turning of awheel, wiiich any child [can do, coroor's are wound i ff, and converted at once into tiie most beautiful silk for the needle or loom. AI! who have seen it, have l>cen struck with the ease, regularity and re sult of its operation, and tlie mechanical genius of its nventor. A view oftiie process appears ito have inspired ail with the same impression, that now we cart make our own silk, and that we must no longer pay a tax of twenty millions fora commodity wiiich every circumstance and facility invites us to make for ourselves. Richmond Whig- NEW_THJATRE, rssHEcitizenxof .Mac >n are most respectfully inform m. ed that ihe New Thea’re, (being comp'eted,) will open for a short season, on Monday Evenin? next, under the management and direction of the subscriber. A goad stock c >mpanv, ofacknow'edaed talent, is en gaged. AH the new and fashionable Plays will be pro duce (and every exertion will be made to render the establishment a source of instruction and innocent a ,museinent. WM- R- HART. The Ma nager has the pleasure of announcing the en gagenmnt (f jr five nigliis) of die favorite and fascina ting juvenile ac:ress, Aliss Meadow*. She will ap pear on Monday Evening as die FIVE MOW ER AY S t with Songs and Dances. ICrMRS. HART will appear in her favorite charac ter.if WIDOW CHEEItLY. First appearance of MR. KELLY, from the New- Orleans Theatres. MONDAY EVEMNG, MAY 20, Will be presented the elegant Comedy (in four acts) of the * SOLDIER’S DAUGIITER govcrnor HEARTALL, - - MR. HART. Frank Heartall, Bailey, | Timothy Quaint, Kelly, Mr. Mat lord, Clark, Old Ferret, R'ge re * Chas VVi,odlv, Finch, Thomas, •'JJUr’ WIDOW CHEERLY, - - MRS. H ART. Mrs. Malfort, - ... Mrs. Kelly- Hr At the end of the Comedy, the ORIGINAL EP ILOGUE will tie spoken by Mrs. Hart. After which, Miss Meadows will appear and aing “I HAVE FRUIT, I HAVE FLOWERS *” Also, the CASTANET MO\G. To conclude with the Farce of the F/T£ O \VB R.i **** Manila Mowbray, - * • . - Hector Mowbray. - ..... Gob Melon Mowbray, .... Foppinyton .Mow-bray, wnhlheaon?, *' Fin just fourteen, and quite a yj, s , Mxaso** Dick Mow bra y, (a Bailor,) with the •“ng of “ Hurrah (or the Red, White and Blue.” andaSador'a 1 Otd Witum'r'U r. R .pert, | Pair. Mr K*V- Mr- Mowbray, Finch, | Ptutor, Mr*. KW* ' tT Performance every evening D-sif* ap*" V‘ * dcltek, and curtain to rise a* 8 o'chsek, v/ * lo be bad at the Central H-nel, and at the Taa****- may N