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mmCILTI R A In ! From the Southern jhvricullarlst. Account of the Management of Pusher, the resi it nee of Dr. Henry Raven-el ; by the Editor. (concluded from ocn east.) The manures used on this place are taken chiefly is iotw!iollv from the stables, cattle, sh- :p and hog-pens, and the quantity derived Iron these sources is suffi' ient to manure the whole of iiis provision and one-half of his cot ton crop, using twelve wagon loads to each acre; out to acquire this, a regular plan is porseveringly Followed, and as the result is satisfactory we will here detail it. Al* of the pere; are stationary and substantially built.— The cattle-pen occupies about one-third ot an acre, and is divided into two parts, the one for milch cows and oxen, the other for dry cattle and yearlings. In tins, there are no sheds, but it is contemplated to erect sui table ones during the ensuing summer. The hog-pen is large and there are several sepa rate divisions (all under sheds) for the feed ing and fattening of such as are wanted for use. The sheep-pen is also large and fitted up with sheds—all of these are at some little distance from each other, and plentifully sup plied throughout the year with litter. The attic, together with the sheep and hogs are nightly penned; and the two last are kept con. ■tantly in an enclosure, consisting of 150 a • rcs of swamp and 100 acres of highland— here they find an abundance of food; and so accustomed are they to being brought up eve ry night, that there is not the least difficulty :n collecting and penning them. During the inter they, in common with the cattle, have -.he range of all of the fields, and aie only eou "ined to this enclosure during the summer.— fhe number of animals which are nightly pen ned, are from two to three hundred, and from such a large stock well supplied with litter, it may be supposed that a large quantity of manure must be made under judicious man agement, and that this is the case inay be learned from the fact, that lor manuring of the present crop, one thousand one hundred .nd twelve wagon-loads (equal to four tliou cand four hundred hnd forty-eight single horse-cart-loads) of manure were carted out md spread in the fields. The plan pursued is simply this—an old woman is kept con stantly employed in raking trash in the woods, •nd an infirm fellow, (who is incapable of performing any laborious work) with a mule and cart is employed in bringing it in and lit •cring these pens in which the cattle, hogs *and sheep are regularly penned every night, the same pluuis pursued with the stable.— These hands art never taken from this work j >n any account. It is their portion of plan tation work lor the year, and although, both together could notin the field perform the ■work of one able bodied hand, yet in this way, they are of more value than the best of them. Doctor Ravenel esti mates their value to him, (employed in this way) at the labour of six hands, that is, were he deprived of the manure made by them, ho 'k ould be obliged to work six additional hands to make up the deficiency, which would ne cessarily accrue in his crops. We doubt whether the estimate be not too low. Six hands might enable him for a few years to re tain what he would otherwise lose, as he would be able to cultivatejio much the more ground. But would his fields be in the same Tgogressive state of improvement, which they now are, or rather would they not be in few years nearly unfit for cultivation, and he be obliged to resort to the 'too common practice of clearing new fields and abandoning the old ones. If this would be the result, their value cannot be estimated, by the difference of products of one or two years, but the fu ture condition of these fields must be taken into consideration. This plantation, as may tie supposed under such management, has un dergone* considerable change for the better ever since this system was adopt .1. We re irret that on referring to our notes, we do not find he improvement in the crops of cotton .and potatoes stated, although the products were mentioned several times to us. We find, however, that in the course of eleven y‘ears, the product of the corn-fields have been loubled. They at first yielded not more than 10 bushels per acre, and now from 18 to 22, •and with every prospect of increasing produc tiveness. The-results obtained from the other crops have been equally satisfactory, and when we need scarcely say that the system is persevered in. We have seen that one of the crops has >.een doubled, in the last eleven years,* and this has been effected under considerable dis : advantage. No rotation of crops is pursued on this place, but thesame crop is planted ev ery year on the same field. -The reason as signed is, that those two great scourges of the planter, nut and joint grass are scattered in patches in some of the fields, and the utmost 'are is necessary, to keep them within their present limits. This is much to be regretted Tor had a judicious rotation been also adopted, when the manuring system was commenced, -there can be little doubt, but that the im provement would have been much greater. The theory on which a rotation of crops is based, is that each plant requires a peculiar rood, which it draws from the soil, leaving < v after it has exhausted all which it can ap propriate to itself) an abundant supply for ether species, consequently, that when a pnr 'icularcrop has been planted so long in the .cield, that it will no longer yield enough to -repay the labour of culture, another differing rVom the first, in some of its characteristics, will not only grow', but yield as abundantly as rs the'first had not been cultivated there at all, and in fact, several otc considered as excel-1 lent preparatory crops for others. -Practice ; has confirmed what theory advanced, and an •well is this established, that it is usual, w here j •i rotation is adopted, to manure the fields in ! sueflession, applying ail of the manure to one i -•articular crop, and this field receives no fur-] .‘her assistance, until all of .the . thcr crops of -the rotation have been cultivated on it, and in one course that which was first commenced tv'th, is to be again plantcU. The favour . rtble results obtained, fully justify thisproce* dure, and it is c\on adopted in the garden • o'the others, as we have already stated, we have no note, and are unwilling to speak cf them li.ia rectllcctxn, 1 THE MACON ADVERTISER, AND AGRICULTURAL AND MERCANTILE INTELLD.E.Vt ER. where manures are usually to be had in abun dance. I fail it therefore been possible to have adopted a rotation, and all of the ma nures been applied to particular fields each year, their products, no doubt, would have been much greater, and the improvement much more evident. But even as it is, it is highly satisfactory, and our planters must be indeed wilfully blind if they do not perceive the immense advantages which they rnay gain ! ! from pursuing either this or some other simi- i | lar plan tor the collecting, preparing and ap- j I plying of manures. That we pay too little l attention to this branch of agriculture, we ! believe all of our planters will admit, but in 1 j admitting it, each one has some excuse which [bethinks, covers his case, and which his; neighbors have not. The .general one, how- j ever, is that manures are not to fee had, and when they are told of the immense quantities' which are placed on each acre, cultivated in Europe, they content themselves with the idea that it is their dense population which enables the farmers there to effect this. But ; those manure? which are so readily obtained | there, arc either of annnal or mineral origin, | vegetable manures are to be had in much more | limited quantities. Now the first is necessa [ rily attendant on population, and as this is more or less dense, so is the facility of oh taming it greater or loss; but mineral and vegetable manures arc to be had in every newly settled country, especially the latter, and although animal manures contain the greatest quantity of nutriment in the smallest space, yet, vegetable manures are equally as appropriate, if not more so, and wo cannot plead that we have not enough of these around us. Our great error is in the want of system, and if we would but proceed more systematic ! ally to work, we would soon produce a mate ria! improvement on our plantations. The plan we would suggest is that pursued by Dr. Ravenel, and also by Jamef Cuthbcrtli, Esq. and by him recommended in his Address be fore the Agricultural Society of South-Caro lina. These gentlemen employ a certain number of hands exclusively for the collect, ingand carting into their pens trash of every kind, but more especially pine-straw and leaves, and these bands are never taken from this employment, on any account, the conse quence of which is a daily augmentation of the manure heap, and the quantity made is very i great. Our planters are too much in the pruc ! tice of attending to this at detached periods, j and consider it of so little urgency and impor | tancc, that it may be deferred, until there is leisure, or rather until they find nothing else for someone or other of their hands to do, and even those who wish to pay some attention to it, are in the habit of doing so only at long intervals. The quantity of manure which will be collected, is therefore, uncertain, and no calculation can be made, based on the appli cation of certain quantities to anv one crop. We all have it in our power to collect, if not as much a3 will manure at first, the whole of our fields, yet at least much more than we do now and without incurring any additional expense. It only requires that a few hands be set apart, for this special purpose, and that theseto be employed in nothing else. If they can collect more trash than is requisite for the pens, let them be employed in carting up j mud, (either salt or fresh) and pacing tnisal j so in the pen where it will prove a valuable i auxiliary, and be itself much improved, for jboth of these are henefitted by exposure be j fore they are used. But on no account ought these bands to be idle or taken off from tuis employment. Dr. Raven el’s mode ofcultute does not dif fer materially from that usually practised.— i The cotton is planted about the last of .March ior the commencement of April, on beds four | feet apart. Manure is first applied on the 1 list, this is bedded on, and the cotton planted. The thinning is commenced with the first, continued with the second and finished at the ! third working, when each stalk is left at a dis | tance of from two to three feet, according to I the quality of the soil. It receives from five I to seven hocings, but is not gone over in the I order in which it is planted. Those fields i which are most grassy arc first attended to, although not in their turn. We certainly I think ill is a much better plan than that which requires each field to be worked in its regu lar rotation. Potatoes are planted early and whole, as they are not so easily pulled out ol'the ground j by crows, &c. and, moreover, yield vines ear lier than tliose which arc cut; no difference has been observed in tlio product of those planted whole and those whioh are cut. The j slips (called by some vines) are planted, on | ground from which oats have been harvested, i I hese (oats) art; manured in the row w ith cot j ton seed, which is found to be the very best j manure for them. Six quarts of seed to the row ot 150 feet, is considered as a sufficient I quantity, much more than this causes such a luxuriant growth -that they fall—about 30 j bushels per acre are produced; the yield of j the potatoe crop we do not recollect. | With respect to the time of planting corn, j Dr. Ravenel differs materially from the most, j 0 not all of his neighbours. Instead of plant | ing it early as is usually done, it is the last I crop that he plants- and seldom, if ever, before ■ the Ist of May. The most critical period in j the growth of corn is, as every planter knows ! when it is earing—if we have’ showers then, j the probability is, that something of a crop' will lie made, however bad the season ha.-- been prior to that, lint on the contrary, let < the season be ever so favorable at first, if there be a drought at the time of earing, the hopes of the planter will be blasted. It i*, j therefore, desirable, that it be planted at such ; time, that it will pass through this critical pe riod duringthe rainy season. Now wc be* j Ue\c it wili .be found that June and tho early i part of July are usually very dry, and that the rainy season commences about the last of Ju ly or in August. That his corn may benefit by these rains, that it is planted so late ; and his success has been such as induces him to persevere in the plan. lie has often made excellent crops, when his neighbors have lost 1 heirs, or obtained but very indifferent ones.* •The practice of Col. J. Bryan of Connor Tiver, corresponds with that of Dr. Uavcncl, and the like j results attend it; thus confirming the correctness j of the course pursued. We hope some of our rea-! ders will institute experiments on, and t t this | point fully. The mode of culture is this : the manure (a* the rate of 12 wagon loads to the acre) is spread in the alleys, and a very large list made, on which the corn is planted, but in order that the manure may not be disturbed, (which would be the case were hoes used in making t the holes,) cotton dibbles are employed ; the rows are J feet apart and the stalks feet.; The crop receives but two workings, anda| good one, lias been made with only one hoe-1 ing. The product we have already stated—j the blades are exposed to the sun but for one j day which is found sufficient to cure them.— Among the corn, peas are planted in drills ex * tending from hill to hill and not in chops as is usual, they arc thus better enabled to sup : port themselves, and the product is greater, j perhaps, owing, in part, to a greater space of ground being occupied bv them.* ] Another piactice pursued by Dr. Ravenel | is deserving of the attention of every planter. [ It is the manufacturing on his plantation* with his own slaves, from the wool and cotton pro duced on the place, all of the clothing and blanketing necessary for the use of his ne groes; and this is done without subtracting a ny thing from the effective force of the plan tation. The spinning is done during rainy days and by pregnant women. These last are also thus employed for a week or two after the usual period allowed for their confine ment, instead of being placed at once to field work. After the crops are laid by (in the month of August) and during the winter, one fellow is employed in weaving, and he accom plishes from 6to 700 yards. The ncgroclotli is fabricated of wool -and cotton, specimens ot which we saw—it-is thick and substantia!, fully equal to the service required of it. The blankets are entirely of cotton, wove very thick and are much liked by the negroes. Some cotton blankets which were made and given to them 16 years ago, are still in use among a few of them. The greatest objee. tion made to the use of this kind of blanket by our planters, is that it is liable to take fire, and they fear accidents from the known care lessness of negroes: but were we to refuse to make use of all articles from which accidents might occur, how miserable would our r.ondi tiou be, and how many of the comforts we now enjoy would we reject. We would nei ther ride a horse, ncy live in a wooden house, because we might be thrown from the one, and the other might take fire, and to be con sistent, we must either build mud or brick cabins for our negroes. Let not us there fore, exclude cotton blankets, when bo‘h e conotny and policy require of us to make ev-, cry exertion,-to support not only ourselves, but our State a!.-o. That these fears are not, wholly groundless, wo admit, but thus much we hat e authority for saying, that on a plant ation in the neighbourhood of Dr. Ravenel,! where cotton blankets have been used for some tunc, no accident by fire has orcured, and the negroes ere remarkably healthy. The wool which is required by Dr. Ravenel for the making ot hi? negroclothingis furnish, ed by his sheep, a large number of which lire’ entirely black, and he is endeavoring to get' rid of all producing white wool The black wool and cotton produce a neat gray cloth, whilst the other has rather adirty appearance unless it is dyed, and we see no reason for in- i curring this expense arul trouble if by- keep. 1 ing only black sheep, the same end will be! obtained. The sheep are sheared twice in the year, viz. about the first of April and the Ist; of September, and are supposed to yield about one-third more than when sheared only once. The practice at first was thought to be inju dicious, bv many of the planters, but experi-j ence has led him to believe not only that more wool can be obtained in this way, but that the sheep are equally as healthy, if not more so, than those which are sheared but once. Thus have wo given a concise sketch of the management of thi; place. • Our time did not enable us to make a more minute investiga tion, or to accept of tint many invitations ex tended to us by oar friends of Pineville and its neighborhood. It is ; source of regret that we could not. The planters of this sre- I tion of our State have long In on reputed to bf j most excellent agriculturists. It would, there ■i fore, have been peculiarly gratifying to us, j could we have visit' and and inspected the ope-1 I rations of their several plantation*, and in no I place could we have spent a portion of our time, more pleasantly. The planters of Pine villo and its neighbor’; vd, are wot only cel ebrated as such, but ar a a among the most intelligent and hospital! cfourSt-k -, and it I was with regret, that we tmik our leave, with-] ] out being able to avail eur.-lres of our conti- i ] gnity to gain a more general knowledge of j their husbandry. * Some of the pi ' rf 17—'--Carolina sow ! peas broad cast over hf vl. of their corn fields iat the last ploughing, wh by this operation is • covered. They are per..',' >d to grow at random, and in the fall of the v* v as many as are wanted are gathered, and the h * turned in to glean the I balance. The stubble is ploughed under for ma * uure. Independence of the Farmer.— Thcr mer chant cr the manufacturer may be robbed of the reward of i.'.s labour, by changes in the foreign or domestic market entirely beyond 1 his contrrd, and may wind up a year, in which he has done r vit.- tiling which intelligence j and indv ,'ry could do to insure success, not only without profit, but with an actual dimi ! nution of capita;. The strong arm of ine { chanic industry may bo enfeebled or parlyzod | by the pro tration of those manufacturing or! common iai interests to whose existence it so essentially contributes, and on whom in turn it so essentially depends. But what has the intelligent and industrious farmer to fear? His capital is invested in the solid ground, he draws on a fund which from time immemo rial has never failed to honour all just de mand;;, his profits may bo diminished indeed, but never w holly suspended: bis success de pends on no mere earthly guarantee, but on the assurance of that great and bencficient | Being, who has declared that while the earth! endureth, seed time and harvest shall not I cease. a mammoth SNAKX. —A Rattle-snake was killed in the vicinity of this place a few eve nings since,w hich measured iiilength, lOfoct 8 inches, am) ‘ll inches in circumference. | Qdvnbus Pcmoerat. THE JfUSi EEE,EVVST. ’ CATI'skijTiTm OUNTAINS. There’s beauty in the soft, warm, summer morn. Where leaves arc sparklingwith the early dev: When birds awake, and buds and flowers are born. And the rich sun appears, half trembling through The crimson haze, and dim luxurious blue Of the fair eastern heavens. —there’s beauty deep From mountain-tops to catch the distant view Of quiet glen-wood, path wild craggy steep, Or cool sequester’d coast where lonely waters sleep There’s beauty in the storm : —the far deep roll Of the majestic thunders —like the cheer Of charging hosts—swells the dilating soul With love, deep love, and reverential fear For Him who curbs the whirlwind’s red career, And grasps the living lightning in his hand 1— For him who of all beauty is t he sphere— The centre of tho glorious and the grand— The light of sun and star, yfheaveu and sea & land. , Swain. A steamboat excursion tip the Hudson in the daytime, or under the bright rays of the moon, opens to the eyes of the admiring truv- 1 eller the volume of nature at some of its most magnificent and beautiful passages. What has been sain of Sir Walter Scott’s seat at Ab botsford will admit of a paraphrastical appli cation to the scenery of the Hudson : it is a romance—not in mortar and stone —but of basaltic formations, of nature’s grandest fea tures, dreary mountains and rich vales—the cloud and the eagle perching upon the one, while the other is the basin of the cataract which leaps from the upper regions, chafed into snow-white foam and feathery splendor. The associations of revolutionary history, like ‘■thick coming fancies,” crowd into the mind at Tarrvtown, Stony Point, and West Point, investing the inanimate features of nature wit U the expression of a sublime patriotism, or a proud defiance to tyranny and power. The unrivalled prospect from West Point landing is gazed upon a moment with .astonishment and admiration, in a short time the traveller has passed the Highland scenery, and the beautiful alternation of cultivated fields, roun ded hills, meadows and shrubbery which suc ceeds, is an admirable relief to the intense sublimity oT the passage below, and prepares the mind to appreciate the Cattskill moun tains which are soon discovered to the left, on the northwestern verge of the horizon, like purple pencilliugs drawn against the . sky. j Landing at the village of Cattskill, the trav ! eller is soon on the route to the Cattskill ! mountain-house, a distance of twelve miles, l eight of which are over hill and dale, and the j remaining four (the best cf the whole) wind j up the ascent of the mountain in z tf-zag di reetions. Within about two milts of the ! “mountain-house,” a lonely dwelling, called i “the-shanty,” is located in a smilelcss gorge, j with a wild, shaggy,and almost upright wall ! of savage mountain, looming above it on the j north, up to the very clouds. “The shanty” • 'binds almost in the road. The traveller j draws in his breath, and wonders by what [ strange means he has so unexpectedly been . introduced to a spot wilder than the imagina j tion ever gave birth to in its maniac crea tions. This is said to be “Sleepy Hollow,’ : where Rip Van Winkle snored away two quar ters of a century. We wish this was the I identical spot, as it certainly is the most fit ting one for such a legend; but Irvine, we believe, had a glen in his mind’s eye for I “Sleepy Hollow,” a few miles above Sing ! Sing, in West Chester county, on the east side of the Hudson. The road is embowered with low trees and bushes, so that the traveller has but little idea j "’hat head-wav he i3 making above the sublu nary world until he nearly reaches the sum mit. At length the “mountain-house” is gained from the Tear; we reach the brow of the mountain on which it is perched, and find the world indeed beneath our feet. From this summit, and from the still higher sum mits of the south and north mountains, a cir cle of vision opens of nearly one hundred miles in extent, embracing the counties of i Greene, Columbia, Rensselaer, Albany, lis ter, Dutchess, and ports of Putnam atid Or ange ; besides the distant view of the Green mountains, the range of Taughannuck or Sad j die mountains in Massachusetts, and the j western hills of Connecticut. Extent and in | equality of surface are of little account in the j vast panorama now spread before the specta i tor. He looks down upon the diversified ; scene belotv him as he would upon a level ; vale, without a hill or hillock, excepting ;t far ; distant border of mountains. This fact leads ! many, not acquainted with the laws of vision, ! to underrate the elevation at which they stand ; hut the littleness of distant objects is. indeed, the proof to a mathematical eye of the sublimity and grandeur of the mountain j height, from which large villages look like i species, and the broad Hudson like a thread of I silver. The height of the “mountain house” j above the level of the river is less than three thousand feet, while the “Round Top,” nr ! “south mountain” exceeds an elevation of [ tour thousand one hundred feet. Rather more than two miles in asouthwest j cm direction from the “mountain house” the i traveil r finds the “cascades,” or the falls of i the Cauterskill, an insignificant brook, which ■ plunges into a chasm, dark and dreary as tho mouth ot Avcrnus. \\ lien the stream is at flood, as it was at our late visit, the cascades arc objects of sublimity. The descent of the first sheet of water unbroken is nearly two hundred feet: and this is succeeded by an. | other .fall of seventy ox eighty feet. The i dark, frowning, ovi . rolling rock, has a con centrated and fearful character of sublimity that exceeds almost any thing of the kind in' •be large' falls and cascades of our country.-— 1 I nlike the rocks of Niagara, here every thing can be seen at a view; and the full force of a vast, wild depth, or of a peep towards heaven from the bottom of the gulph, must be owned by every spectator. But the “Round Top,” a little to the South from the "Mountain House,” and easily ac cessiblc through a windingpath and the “l’ud ding Stone Hall, ’ affords a prospect truly sublime. Me walked to the bold parapet of rocks, jutting out in defiance over an almost perpendicular depth of about a thousand feet. The little being of a day will of course fee! some shrinking as ho treads the verge, and ? will frequently think of the possibility of an avalanche. But it is unfounded terror. The masonry of thii proud monument of eternal power, is nol to be jarred by mortal tread. It will stand there, while the earthcoritinues, a batterry of terror, unassailable by the vio lence of war, above the reach ot any echo, sate that of the thunder which rolls below. Here was a place to worship. The air was puritv itself. Midway down the mountain, and clinging eiose under the base of the rock on which wc stood, a ch> id of about a mile square was discharging its torrent ol rain,and as the process went on, it? color changed from a leaden to a white, and at length hav ing deposited its freight, it furled up towaids, the north like fantastic shapes of snow.— Great thoughts of God came unbidden into the mind, and creation and created things seemed like the chaff which his strong winds were driving before them. Heaven only was above. What heart could have refused to worship on this sublime altar ? Thunder storms below the “Mountain House” are not of .infrequent occurrence.— 1 But those who ace them for the first time are, ! usually disappointed. No cloud, in a thun der storm, was ever known to reach over and cover the entire circle of vision; so that, while all is sunshine on the mountain, the portion of cloud which is “the brew of the thunder,” is small, compared to the area of vision—more sunshine than storm appearing in the world below. Mr. Beach, the enter prising and intelligent proprietor of the line of stages running to the mountain, informed us that, some years since, he spent a day up on the mountain, and the sea of clouds below was stretched to the edge of the horizon al! around. It. was an even, leaden-colored floor, upoh which the sun shone, and across which a steady wind swept during the day. On his descent, he found that it had rained in Cattskill incessantly, and heard from ether quarters that the rain had been general. It is a matter of surprise that the citizens of New-York do not more frequently resort to the Cattskill mountains, for the benefit cf the pure ail, anu the ex’..derating effects of the alpine scenery. The accommodations at the “Mountain House,” are very good, at reasonable charges; and the company found there, allhoughdransicnt like flocks upon the wing, is communicative and well-bred. This spot, although so near and accessible to the city of New-York, has been more vuited by the Bostonians and Philadelphians, than the New-Yorkers. We had the pleasure of see ing a highly respectable Boston family there, with whom the contemplation of natural sce nery, seemed to ho a part of the course of ed-, i ucation prescribed for their intelligent chil j dren; and never do young eyes look so intel lectual as when, in an estacy of delight, they arerivettod upon the solemnly grand and beau tiful book of nature. TILE BEGGAR ANI) BANKER. ’* Stand out of my way,” said a rough surly voice, under my window, one day as I set musing over the bustling scenes below mo, at mv lodgings in Chcsnut .street. “Your honor will please to recollect,” re plied a sharp and somewhat indignant voice— “ Your honor well please -to recollect that I am a beggar, and have as much right to the road as yourself.” “And I am a banker,” was retorted still more gruffly and angrily. Amused at the strange dialogue, I loaned over the casement, and 'beheld a couple of citizens, standing in attitudes somewhat be tokening a disposition to hostility, their coun tenances menacing, and their persons pre senting a contrast at once ludicrous and in structive. The one was a purse proud, lord ly mannered man, apparelled in silk, and ex hibiting a carcase of pretty near the circum ference of a hogshead; and the other a ragged and dirty, but equally overbearing and self important personage. And from a compari son o‘ their appearances, it would have puz zled the most profound M. D. to determine which of their rotundities was best stored, habitually, -with good victuals and drink. Upon a close observation, however, in the countenance of the Bank r, 1 discovered, al most as soon as my eye fell upon it, a line bespeaking something of humour and awak ened curiosity., as he stood fixed and eyed his antagonist; and this became more clear and conspicuous, when lie lowered his tone and asked, — ‘•How will you make the right vgu speak of so confidently appear “How,” replied the beggar, “why, listen a moment and i’ll learn you. In the first place do you take notice that God has given me a soul and a body just as good for all the pur poses of thinking, eating, drinking, and tak ing my pleasure us he has you—and then you rnay remember Dives and Lazarus as we pass. Then again, it is a free country, and here too, we are on an equality: for you must know that here cvi n a beggar’s dog may look a gentleman in the face, with as much indif ference as he would a brother. You and I have the same common master ; are cquallv tree; live equally easy ; are both travelling the same journey, bound to the same place, and both have to die and be buried in the end.” “But,” observed the Banker, interrupting him, “do you pretend there is then no differ ence between a beggar and a banker!” “Not in tlic least,“ rejoined the other, with the utmost readiness, “not in the least as to essentials. You swagger and ch ink wine, in company of your own chousing—l swagger imd drink beer, which I like better than your wine, in company which I like better than your company. You make thousands a day perhaps, Ia shilling prrhap<v— if you are con tent, I am—we’re equally happy at night You dress in new clothes, I a:n just as com fortable in old ones ; and have no trouble in keeping them from soiling. If I hive less property than you, I have less to care about. If fewer friends, 1 have less friendship to loose ; and it 1 !o not make as gre at a figure in the world, I make as great a shadow on the pavement—l am as great as you. Be. sides, my word for it, I have fewer enemies ; meet with fewer losses; carry as light a heart, arid s.ng as merry a song as the Lust of you.” “But then,” said the Banker, who had all a*ong been trying to get in a word, “is the contempt of the world nothing ?’ “I lie envv or the world is ns bad as iN con* 'mpt ; you r arc, perhaps, the on-, and Ia share of the other. \Ve are matched tiiT too. And besides the world deals in t matter equally unjust wit’ us both.... You ai, I live by our wits, instead of living by 0 industry ; and the only difference between a* in this particular worth naming, is, that ii Cost? society more to maintain you than j does me—d am contented with a little, y O , want a great deal. Neither of us raise gruir or potatoes, or weave cloth, ot manufacture any thing useful, wc therefore add nothin® tc the common stock; we are only consumer* and if the world judged withi 'rict impartial!] ty, therefore, it seems tome, l would be pro. n.ounced the clever eat fellow.” Sosie papers by here interrupted th e con. versatioij. disputants separated, ap> parer.tly good frie awl T drew in niv bead ejaculating.sotiewhi’t manner of Alex, under in the play,-—i. there then, no mor difference betweeq aL- 'Uci and the ; g.ir! But several years have since tsaired attar, and both these individuals have j. ’id the ? debt of nature. They died as tin. v live, the one a Banker and the other a Begp T- \ examined both of their graves, when ! j ” visited the city. They were of similar lemn, and breadth. The grass grew equally green above each; and the sun looked down :‘i pleasantly on the one as on the other, v* honors, pleasures, or delights clustered roun'; the grave of the rich man. No linger scorn was pointed at that of the poor maiw They were both equally deserted, lonely, and forgotten ! I thought, too, of the destinies to which they had passed; of that state it] which temporal distinctions exist not tem poral honors are regarded not—where prii! and the circumstances which surround thi] life, never find admittance. Then the dk tinotions of time appeared, indeed, as an atom in the sunbeam, compared with those which are made in that changeless state to which they both had gone. DIFFERENCE AND AGREEMENT' on, SUNDAY MORNING. Tt was Sunday morning. All tho bob wero ringing for church, and the snoots were filled with people moving in all directions. Here, numbers of well-dressed persons, and a long train of chanty children, were thronging in at the wide doors of a large hand. nmc church. There, a smaller number, a'., most equally gay in dress, were entering aa elegant meeting-house. TJp one alley. a R(>. man Catholic congregation was turning into their retired chapel, every one crossing hin.. sell' with a finger dipt in holy water as !,- went in. The opposite side of the street was covered with a train of Quakers, distil.. gun-died by their plain and neat attire, and se date aspect, who walked without ceremony into avoom as plain as themselves, and tool their seats, the mtn on one side and the wo. men on the other, in silence. A spacious, building was filled with an oversowing crow( of Methodists, most of them plainly habited, hut decent and serious in demeanor; while* small society of Babtists in tho neighbour* hood quietly occupied their humble place of assembly. Presently the different services began.— The churches resounded with the solemn o . yan, and with the indistinct murmurs of a large body of people follow ing the mirvsfir in responsive prayers. From the meetinri were heard the slow psalm, ami the single voice of the leader of their devotions. Thß Roman Oatholic chapel was enlivened bv strains of music, the tinkling of a small bell, and a perpetual change of service and cere monial. A profound silence and unvarying look and posture announced the self-recollec tion and mental devotion of the Quakers. Mr. Ambrose led his son Edwin roundsll these different assemblies as a spectator.— Edwin viewed every thing with great atten tion, and wasoften impatient to inquire of hi. father the meaningof what ho saw; but Mr Ambrose would not suffer him, to disturb any of the congregations even by a whisper.— M hen they had gone throi gh the whole, Ed win found a grear number of questions to put to his father, who explained every tiling t. him in the best manner nc could. " At lor.gtl. says Edwin, But why cannot p'l these people agree to go to the same place , and worship GoJ ia the same way 1 And why shoulrl they agree ? replied bn father. Do you r>t sec that people ditlci.it a hundred e.the - fluids? Bo they all dress •dike, and oat ;y .and d r j ,k alike, and keep thw same hours, an 1 use the same diversions’ I" 1 * B osc ; things in which tiiCf have a right Vdo ns they please. And they have aright, too, to worshipGoJ j as ,h °y concerns mine fhit themselves. of wowdiipp n g him ? lie has directed the mind and spiiif tv fill which, boas to be worshipped, but net the part’guiar form and manner. That is kft fpt eve .y one. to choose, according as suits Jii3 • cr.apcr rmd opinions. All these people like their o'.ui way beat, and why should they leave • for t ie choice of another ? Religion va* <u the tilings in which mankind were ntiJcU dijfrr. T he; several congregations now began to bo disiiriised, and the street was again over* pro id with persons of all the differ nt see!;, S°iuC promiscuously to their respective i ir '’ nes. It chanced that a poor man fell doSf. in tiie street in a fit of appoplexy, and lay for eond. His Wife and children stood routed him, crying and lamenting in the bitten 1 ;'- distress. The beholders immediately Hocked round, and, with looks and impressions of tit' l warmest compassion gave their help. A churchman raised the man from the ground, by lifting him under the arms, while a Pres byterian held his head and wipped his far* with his handkerchief. A Roman Cathohr lady took out her smelling bottle, and assiek’ ously applied it to his nose. A MetliodiA ran for a Hector. A Quaker supported and comforted the woman, and a Babtist tifci care of the children. Edwin and his father wa re among the spec tators. Here, said Mr. Ambrose, is a tiling in w hich mankind were made to rg*rr j Center*, i: r.u’.urff rotfth.