Newspaper Page Text
(frarrnl (Brlrrtfr.
From Household Words.
SHORT CUTS ACROSS THE GLOBE.
To a person who wishes to sail for
California an inspection of the map of
the world reveals a provoking peculiar
ity. The Atlantic Ocean—the high
way of the globe—being separated
from the Pacific by the great western
continent, it is impossible to sail to the
opposite coasts without going thou
sands of miles out of his way; for he
must double Cape Horn. Yet a closer
inspection of the map will discover that
but for one little barrier of land, which
is in size but as a grain of sand to the
bed of an ocean, the passage would be
direct. Were it not for that small
neck of land, the Isthmus of Panama
(which narrows in one place to twenty
eight miles) he might save a voyage ot
from six to eight thousands miles, and
pass at once into the Pacific Ocean.—
Again if his desires tend toward the
East, he perceives that but for the Isth
mus of Suez, he would not be obliged
to double the Cape of Good Hope.—
The eastern difficulty has been partial
ly obviated by the overland route open
ed up by the ill-rewarded Waghorn.—
The western barrier has yet to be bro
ken through.
Now that we can shake hands with
Brother Jonathan in twelve days by
means of weekly steamers; travel from
one end of Great Britain to another,
or from the Hudson to the Ohio, as
fast as the wind, and make our words
dance to distant friends upon the magic
tight wire a great deal faster—now that
the European and Columbian Saxon is
spreading his children more or less over
all the known habitable world: it
seems extraordinary that the simple
expedient of opening a twenty-eight
mile passage between the Pacific and
Atlantic Oceans, to save a dangerous
voyage of some eight thousand miles,
has not been already achieved. In this
age of enterprise that so simple a reme
dy for so great an evil should not have
been applied appears astonishing.—
Nay, we ought to feel some shame
when we reflect that evidences in the
neighbourhood of both isthmuses exist
of such junction having existed, in what
we are pleased to designate “barbarous”
ages.
Does nature present insurmountable
engineering difficulties to the Panama
scheme ? By no means: for after the
Croton aqueduct, our own railway tun
neling, and the Britannia tubular bridge,
engineering difficulties have become
obsolete. Are the levels of the Pacific
and the Gulf of Mexico, which should
be joined, so different, that if one were
admitted the fall would inundate the
surroundingcountry? Notatall. Hear
Humboldt on these points.
Forty years ago he declared it to be
his firm opinion that “ the Isthmus ot
Panama is suited to the formation of
an oceanic canal—one with fewer
sluices than the Caledonian Canal—ca
pable of affording an unimpeded pas
sage, at all seasons of the year, to ves
sels of that class which sail between
New York and Liverpool, and between
Chili and California.” In the recent
edition of his “ Views of Nature,” he
“ sees no reason to alter the views he
has always entertained on this subject.”
Engineers, both British and American,
have confirmed this opinion by actual
survey. As, then, combination of
British skill, capital, and energy, with
that of the most “ go-ahead” people
upon earth, have been dormant, whence
the secret of the delay 1 The answer
at once allays astonishment: Till the
present time, the speculation would not
have “paid.”
Large works of this nature, while
they create an inconceivable develop
ment of commerce, must have a cer
tain amount of a trading population
to begin upon. A gold-beater can cover
the effigy of a man on horseback with
a sovereign; but he must have the
sovereign first. It was not merely be
cause the full power of the iron rail to
facilitate the transition of heavy bur
dens had not been estimated, and be
cause no Stephenson had constructed a
“ Rocket engine,’ that a railway with
steam locomotives was not made from
London to Liverpool before 1836. Un
til the intermediate traffic between these
tarmini had swelled to a sufficient
amount in quantity and value to bear
reimbursement for establishing such a
mode of conveyance, its execution
would have been impossible, even
though men had known how to set
about it.
What has been the condition of the
countries under consideration? In 1839,
the entire population of the tropical
American isthmus, in the states of cen
tral America and New Grenada did not
exceed three millions. The number of
the inhabitants of pure European de
scent did not exceed one hundred thou
sand. It was only among this incon
siderable fraction that anything like
wealth, intelligence, and enterprise,
akin to that of Europe, was to be found;
the rest were poor and ignorant aborigi
nals and mixed races, in a state ot
scarcely demi-eivilization. Thoughout
this thinly-peopled and poverty-strick
en region, there was neither law nor
government. In Stephens’ “Central
America. ’ may be found an amusing
account of a hunt after a government,
by a luckless American diplomatist,
who had been sent to seek for one in
central America. A night wanderer
running through bog and brake after a
will-o’-the-wisp, could not have encoun
tered more perils, or in search of a
more impalpable phantom. In short,
there was nobody to trade with. To
the south of the Isthmus, along the Pa
cific coast of America, there was only
one station to which merchants could
resort with any fair prospect of gain—
Valparaiso. Except Chili, all the Pa
cific states of South America were re
trograding from a very imperfect civil
zation, under a succession of petty and
aimless revolutions. To the north of
the isthmus matters were little, if any
thing better. Mexico had gone back
ward frem the time of its revolution;
and, at the best, its commerce in the
Pacific had been confined to a yearly
ship between Acapulco and the Philip
pines. Throughout California and Ore
gon, with the exception of a few Euro
pean and half-breed members, there
Ut sava g e aboriginal tribes.
, ? iussia n settlements in the far north
* ,Homing but a paltry trade in furs
wi amschatka, that barely defrayed
its own expenses. Neither'was there
any encouragement to make a short cut
. omumerable islands of the Pa
cific. The whole of Polynesia lay out
side of the pale of civilization. In,
Tahiti, the Sandwich group, and the
northern peninsula of New Zealand,
missionaries had barely sowed the first
seeds of morals and enlightenment. —
The limited commerce of China and
the Eastern Archipelago was engrossed
by Europe, and took the route of the
Cape of Good Hope, with the excep
tion of a few annual vessels that traded
from the sea-board states of the North
American Union to Valparaiso and
Canton. The wool of New South
Wales was but coming into notice, and
found its way to England alone around
the Cape of Good Hope. An Ameri
can fleet of whalers scoured the Pacific,
and adventurers of the same nation
carried on a desultory and inconsidera
ble traffic in hides with California, in
tortoise-shell and mother of pearl with
the Polynesian Islands.
What, then, would have been the use
of cutting a canal, through which there
would not have passed five ships in a
twelvemonth ? But twenty years have
worked a wondrous revolution in the
state and prospects of these rigions.
The traffic of Chili has received a
large development, and the stability of
its institutions has been fairly tried. —
The resources of Costa Rica, the pop
ulation of which is mainly of Europe
an race, is steadily advancing. Ameri
can citizens have founded a state in
Oregon. The Sandwich Islands have
become for all practical purposes an
American colony. The trade with
China—to which the proposed canal
would open a convenient avenue by a
western instead of the present eastern
route —is no longer restricted to the
Canton river, but is open to all nations
as far north as the Yang-tse-Iviang.—
The navigation of the Amur has been
opened to the Russians by a treaty,
and cannot long remain closed against
the English and American settlers be
tween Mexico and the Russian settle
ments in America. Tahiti has become
a kind of commercial emporium. The
English settlements in Australia and
New-Zealand have opened a direct
trade with the Indian Archipelago and
China. The permanent settlements ot
intelligent and enterprising Anglo-
Americans and English in Polynesia,
and on the eastern and western shores
of the Pacific, have proved so many
dtpdts for the adventurous traders with
its innumerable islands, and for the
spermaceti whalers. Then the last,
but greatest addition of all, is Calfor
nia: a name in the world of commerce
and enterprise to conjure with. There
gold is to be had for fetching. Gold,
the main-spring of commercial activity,
the reward of toil—for which men are
ready to risk life, to endure every sort
of privation ; sometimes, alas! to sacri
fice every virtue; one most especially,
and that is patience. They will away
with her now.
Till the discovery of the new’ gold
country how contentedly they dawdled
round Cape Horn; creeping dow r n one
coast, and up another : but now such
delay is not to be thought of. Al
ready. indeed, Panama has become the
seat of a great, increasing, and peren
nial transit trade. This cannot fail to
augment the settled population of the
region, its W'ealth and intelligence. —
Upon these facts we rest the conviction
that the time has arrived for realizing
the project of a ship canal there or in
the near neighbourhood.
That a ship canal, and not a railway,
is what is first wanted (for very soon
there will be both), must be obvious
to all acquainted with the practical de
tails of commerce. The delay and ex
pense to which merchants are subject
ed, when obliged to “ break bulk” re
peatedly between the port v hence they
sail and that of their destination, is ex
treme. The waste and spoiling of goods,
the cost of the operation, are also heavy
drawbacks, and to these they are sub
ject by the stormy’ passage round Cape
Horn.
Two points present themselves offer
ing great facilities for the execution of
a ship canal. The one is in the imme
diate vicinity of Panama ; where the
many imperfect observations which
have hitherto been made, are yet suf
ficient to leave no doubt that, as the
distance is comparatively short, the
summit levels are inconsiderable, and
the supply of water ample. The other
is some distance to the northward. The
isthmus is there broader, but is in part
occupied by the large and deep fresh
water lakes of Nicaragua and Naragua.
The lake of Nicaragua communicates
with the Atlantic by a copious river,
which may either be rendered naviga
ble, or be made the source of supply
for a side canal. The space between
the two lakes is of inconsiderable ex
tent, and presents no great engineering
difficulties. The elevation of the lake
of Naragua above the Pacific is incon
siderable; there is no hill range be
tween it and the gulf of Canehagua;
and Captain Sir Edward Belcher car
ried his surveying ship Sulpher sixty
miles up the Estero Real, which rises
near the lake, and falls into the gulf.
The line of the Panama canal presents,
as Humboldt remarks, facilities equal
to those of the line of the Caledonian
canal. The Nicaragua line is not more
difficult than that of the canal of Lan
guedoc, a w ork executed between 16G0
and 1682, at a time when the commerce
to be expedited by it did not exceed
—if it equalled—that w hich will find
its w T ay across the Isthmus ; when a
great part of the maratime country
was as thinly inhabited by as poor a
population as the Isthmus now’ is; and
w hen the last subsiding storms of civil
war, and the draggonnades of Louis
XIV., unsettled men’s minds, and made
person and property insecure.
The cosmopolitan effects of such an
undertaking, if prosecuted to a success
ful close, it is impossible even approxi
mately to estimate. The acceleration
it will communicate to the already
rapid progress of civilization in the Pa
cific is obvious. And no less obvious
are the beneficial effects it will have
upon the mutual relations of civilized
states, seeing that the recognition of the
independence and neutrality in times
of general war of the canal and the re
gion through which it passes, is indis
pensable to its etablishment.
W e have dwelt principally on the
commercial, the economical considers
tions of the enterprise, for they are
w'hat must render it possible. But the
friends of Christian missions, and the
advocates of universal peace among
nations, have yet a deeper interest in
it. In the words used by Prince Al
bert at the dinner at the Mansion House
respecting the forthcoming great ex
hibition of arts and industry, “ Nobody
who has paid any attention to the par
ticular features of our present era, will
SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE.
doubt for a moment that we are living
at a period of most wonderful transition,
which tends rapidly to accomplish that
great end —to which, indeed, all history
points —the realization of the unity of
mankind. Not a unity which breaks
down the limits and levels the peculiar
characterisiics of the different nations]
of the earth, but rather a unity the re
sult and product of those very national
varieties and antagonistic qualities. —;
The distances which separated the dif
ferent nations and parts of the globe
are gradually vanishing before the
achievements of modern invention, and
we can traverse them with incredible
speed ; the languages of all nations are
known, and their acquirements placed
within the reach of every body ;
thought is communicated with the rapid
ity, and even by the power of lightning.’
Every short cut across the globe
brings man in closer communion with
his distant brotherhood, and results in
concord, prosperity, and peace.
(Driginnl pnrtnj. ]
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
FAREWELL TO LOVE.
Again I’m cheated ! what are life’s false hopes?
Farewell to Love ! but, sneering misanthropes, I
I’m not with you ; oh, no—l dare not quell
Those once loved thoughts, that made it swei t
to dwell
In such a world as this. I cannot tear
From my fond eyes, the veil they loved to wear,
Nor weep that it is gone; I’m not with you,
But still to Love, a long, a last adieu.
Metliought ’twas but an humble hope, this last,
And hence the pang is keener, now ’tis past!
It was an humble hope, but had so wrought”
Into my very essence, and had caught
So many borrowed beauties, that caprice,
And youth, enthusiastic, much increase,
The darling idea seemed almost my own,
But now I mourn my last bright love-dream
gone!
’Tis well, ’tis well: God chastens not in vain ;!
The sunder’d links will form a brighter chain,
When joined in Heaven and purified from dross,
We count that gain which now we reckon loss.
It were presumption, with a form like mine,
Devoid of beauty’s touch, to dare enshrine
So pure a thing as love within my breast,
For love from beauty borrows half its zest;
The beautiful may love—the sunset sky,
The gentle moon—the winds that murmur by,
And flowews—sweet flowers—my passion still
may be,
As when, in days of yore, beneath yon tree
That shades the gateway, near our humble cot,
I sat, forgetting all, by most forgot,
And gazed insatiate on the Jasmine white,
And kissed sweet violets with pure delight.
Ay, I have clasped them even to my heart,
Until their loveliness would all depart,
Not knowing then that thus ’twould over be,
And all things wither when beloved by me,
Not knowing then, that in life’s troubled day,
We“ make us idols but to find them clay
Not fearing then, a few short years would prove
That I had naught but skies and flowers to love.
Farewell to Love ! and yet I fain would part
With that false boy, with kindness in my heart ;
For his deceit is but another sign
On life’s great highway posted, to confine
Our wayward feet to that straight, narrow’ way,
From which, alas! they are so prone to stray.
And brightest hopes, when crushed, will often
lead
To that fruition which is Heaven’s meed.
FREDONIA.
(Original (Essntjs.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
EGERIA:
Or, Voices from the Woods and Wayside.
NEW SERIES.
LXIV.
Uses of Tomtits. I really cannot
see w T hy a fop should not be considered
quite as necessary to the human family
as a philosopher. He has his uses, if
only to be laughed at. He may not
be useful to many, but he is apt to be
agreeable to more; and he who pleases,
is quite as dear as he who serves us.
Nobody quarrels with the jay, because
you cannot devour him with the same
satisfaction which a partridge gives on
table; and the silly tomtit, if not so
venerable a bird as the owl, is less de
structive to the chickens. 1 suppose
that fops and dandies bear just about
the same relation to the human family
as jays, parrots, and such like, to the
leathered tribes. Wits, and mimics,
and satirists, may be likened to mock
ing birds ; statesmen and philosophers,
to owls and other birds that see by
night; politicians to bats and sparrow
hawks; and warriors to vultures, eagles
and other voracious feeders, carrying
great beaks, big beards and brows, and
awfully long teeth and talons.
LXV.
Past and Present. The present is
alwwas an eminence, yet who that
stands upon it is ever quite satisfied
with the provinces within his vision.
In due degree w ith our years, w r e look
forward or backward, upw'ard or around.
To the old, the heights most precious
are those upon which the sunshine
rests, the mellow lights of evening,
gleaming faintly upon the mountain
tops behind: to the young, they are
those of morning, shining gaily upon
the purple summits that stretch away
before. Neither is satisfied with the
eminences gained, the one at the cost
of a life, the other of a hope, and both
at the period of equal life and hope.
XLVI.
Good and Evil Genii. The Indians
fable, that there is alw'ays one hour in
twenty-four when the good genius of a
man deserts him, being compelled in
that time to fly to Heaven for instruc
tions. In that hour, should his evil
genius happen to find it out, he can
ruin him with all imaginable ease. It
is the misfortune of some men, that the
good genius desert them most of the
time, and it is the evil principle that
only leaves them for an hour. This
brief space of time affords the better
genius but little opportunity. With
such persons, self strives ever against)
self —the right hand against the left —
‘and each day brings its own suicide of
soul. They need no enemy for their
destruction, and, with a strange and
mistaken charity for the devil, antici
pate his efforts and lighten his labours.
LXVU.
Performance. To suppose that no
thing remains to be done, is to assume
that we are perfect. If life be half de
veloped, the labour cannot cease ex
cept with life itself. Each day brings
its own duty, and every step forwards
and upwards, but shows us new plains
to cross and new heights to overcome.
LXVIII.
Solitude. He who goes into the
[Solitude, seeking its securities, goes
[into his own heart and entreats God to
Jits examination. Let such persons lay
jit honestly bare, without reservation or
[concealment, and no doubt all its parts
[will be made whole. But the security
[which one seeks must be in the nature
[of a surrender and a sacrifice; and in
[laying his heart thus bare, he must be
[prepared to fling away the worser part
las a burnt offering, to “live the purer
|with the better half.”
(fur I'rttrw.
Correspondence of the Southern Literary Gazette.
NEW YORK, July 6, 1850.
The town is fast recovering from the
patriotic spasms of Independent Day,
after burning gunpowder enough for a
second battle of Buena Vista, and]
making the welkin ring with every va-
Iriety of hideous sounds that could be
conjured up by the genius of unrest.
[For two or three days, we have had a
[regular specimen of an unclouded New
York July sun, which you know- not
only makes the mercury in the ther
mometer dance to the top of its bent,
but brings out all imaginable and un
imaginable odours, reminding you, in
the w’orst way, that is by contrast, ot
pabaean groves and islands of spices.
To-day, a cool, sweet, and most charm
ing-tempered breeze, is playing in at
the windows, and evidently doing its
best to make life tolerable to the few
surviving, overheated, sweltering deni
zens of Gotham, who have not been
lucky enough to make their escape
from this reeking colluvies of abomi
nations.
1 had the good fortune to celebrate
the “glorious Fourth,” with one or
two friends, in one of those breezy and
•
verdant nooks of Long Island, whose
romantic beauty tempts one to for
swear the city altogether, and nestle for
life in the inviting bosom of pure and
genial nature. You would scarcely be
lieve that there was so retired a spot
within two hours ride of this noisy
Babel. The smooth Bay sets in from
the Sound, forming a shore indented
with all manner of graceful curves,
while the high hills on each side, (al
most worthy the name of mountains,)
covered with locusts and ehesnuts oi
luxuriant growth, present a miniature
picture of the wooded sides of Lake
George. Almost concealed amidst the
exuberant foliage of the tufted heights,
are embosomed two modest cottages,
which form a tit residence for the two
men of genius who have made them
their summer retreat. The northern
shore of Long Island abounds with
these beautiful inlets of water, sur
rounded yvith rich, picturesque emi
nences, and enjoying the purest ocean
breezes, which are far more attractive
to the lover of rural scenery than most
of tha crack watering places which
produce such a furor among our fash
ionable birds of passage.
The Opera closed last night with the
performance of Semiramede, by the
Havana Company. Great complaint
is made with the cast of characters
adopted by the manager, and in spite
of the brilliant efforts of Tedesco, the
whole piece must be pronounced a
failure.
The Havana Company are to appear
on Monday evening at Castle Garden,
in the first of a series of musical repre
sentations and concerts, w hich are to
be offered to the public at a reduced
price. The regular opera is to be alter-
Inated with vocal and instrumental eon-
Icerts for three evenings in the week.
The Company, it is said, have engaged
Castle Garden for four weeks, with the
right to continue the arrangement for
six w r eeks. On Monday night, the fa
vourite Norma will be reproduced, and
on subsequent evenings the entertain
ment will be varied with popular Ope
ras of a lighter character. No doubt
Castle Garden w ill be thronged. The
hotels are now so crowded as to afford
a good audience, in spite of the absence
from town of so many of our opera
going public.
Maurice Strakosch returned in the
beginning of this week, after his long
professional absence from New York.
His tour has been a uniform series of
successes, and he comes back with his
sunny face w r reathed w r ith a profusion
of fresh smiles. He is now ruralizing
with Max Maretzek, on Staten Island,
and merry men they are, and no mis
take, in their green retreat on that
odoriferous summer Paradise.
Biscaccianti, after receiving the high
est honours in her native city, from the
whole array of Upper Tendom, arrived
here on Thursday night. She sails for
Europe, with Count Biscaccianti, in the
steamer of the 10th inst. Her career,
on the whole, in this country, has been
a brilliant triumph. In spite of the
cold shoulder which she received on
| her first advent in New York, she has
won a noble fame in most of the South-!
ern cities, as well as in Boston, and noj
one will soon tbrget the enchantmentJ
of her voice, who has once listened to j
her sweet, impassioned melodies.
Madame Anna Bishop is looked for
with great impatience. She will soon
be in New York, covered with the
fresh laurels which she has gathered in
Southern fields.
W. Vincent Wallace, it has been
said, has decided to make this city his
permanent residence for the future.
The house of \Y . Hall & Son are to be
the sole publishers of his original mu
sical compositions.
A French troupe of comic dancers
are reported to be preparing for an
American campaign, and will probably
arrive here early in the. autumn. An
English Operatic Troupe, under the
celebrated Catharine Hayes, are also an
nounced for the coming winter. The
Ravels are to return in September.
Anew theatre is going up in Broad
way, at the corner of Spring-street,
which is to be devoted to performances
similar to those of the Olympic, while
under the administration of Mitchell,
jit is intimated that Mr. Brougham will
[“hold the ribbands” in this new enter
jprise, and they could not be placed in
[better hands.
| James Wallack, Jr., and his wife,
[have accepted an engagement at the
[liay Market, London. Their success
[in England is confidently anticipated,
j Wallack has contracted with Mr. Banco,
[the author of “Marco Bozzaris,” for a
[new tragedy, to be produced during his
| London engagement.
Dr. Bethune declines accepting the
Chancellorship of the New York Uni
versity, vacated by the resignation of
Hon. Mr. Frelinghausen. The exist
ence of other engagements is alleged
as the ostensible cause of his non
acceptance. It will take no small share
of vigour and determination to put the
University on the right track. The
discipline has long been at a low ebb.
Probably Dr. Bethune shrinks from the
thankless task of establishing an au
thority over the lawless juveniles ot
young Manhattandom. The boys, 1
am told, have the hit completely in
their teeth, and run the sedate Profes
sors a wild race. The commencement
was held in the Astor Place Opera]
Mouse. The services presented a daz
zling Mosaic of sophomorical elo
quence, opera-music, and prayer. It is
not thought quite decorous to open a
church for the displays of these royster
ing hobble-de-hoys. I fancy the velvety
Dr. Bethune would soon find himself
out of his element, at the head of such
a regiment of “light-infantry.”
Mr. G. C. Anthon, a nephew of the
world-renowned literary forager, Prof.
A., of Columbia College, has received
the appointment of Greek Professor,
in the place of the terrible heresy
hunter, Taylor Lewis, w T ho lias been
[transferred to Union College. Whether
Mr. Anthon is expected to fulfil both
functions of his illustrious predecessor,
[l have not yet been informed.
Waldo Emerson has just completed
a course of lectures at Cincinnati and
some other cities of the West. The
Buckeyes, I perceive, are somewhat
surprised to find that the famous Bos-I
ton transcendentalist wears broad-cloth
and shoe-leather, as a Christian gentle
man should, and neither smells of sul
phur, nor shows a cloven foot. He has
been exploring the Mammoth Cave of
Kentucky, and is now on his return by
way of the Falls of St. Anthony and
Lake Superior.
Among the arrivals this week by the
steamer Washington, are Count Dem
binski, the nephew of the gallant Hun
garian General Dembinski, and himself
an officer of distinction in the Hunga
rian service. He is accompanied by
his young Countess, who has shared his
hard fortunes, and proposes to become
a resident in this country. Ilis his
tory is full of romantic interest. In
his appearance he is quite youthful,
with a very intelligent face and prepos
sessing manners, although he does not
speak a word of English.
Mr. G. P. R. James, the prolific
English novelist, was a passenger by
the same vessel. He brings with him
his wife and family, consisting of several
sons and daughters. His object in
visiting America, 1 understand, is one
purely of pleasure and curiosity, with
no reference to any business arrange
ments. He utterly disclaims the asser
tion that he wishes to modify the
copy right laws. James is a stoutish
gentleman, with a strongly-marked
English look, apparently not far from
forty-five years of age. He has written
too much to be made a lion of by our
novelty-worshippers.
1 need not tell you that the second
number of Harpers’ New Monthly is
in no respect inferior to the former
one. It keeps the press busy to suppl)
the demand.
Stringer & Townsend issue the se
cond number of their “ Weekly Miscel
lany ” to-day. Its contents are made
up with considerable taste. lam told
it is not intended as a rival to Harpers’,
so much as to gratify the numerous
readers who wish for a litery journal,
with less buckram dignity and more
breadth and vitality, than are found in
the hebdomidal columns of Duyckinck’s
Literary World.
Paine’s gas turns out to be gas and
nothing else. So the North River is
safe from being burned for the present
at least.
The Rochester knockings still make
las much noise as ever. Your article
on the subject nearly represents the
state ot’public opinion here in regard to
them. Those who are the least scepti
cal ascribe them all to the devil. T.
! (T'ljr i>orrtli Slltnr.
AN HOUR WITH GOD.
One hour with Thee, my God ! when daylight
breaks
Over a world thy guardian care has kept,
When the fresh soul from soothing slumber
wakes,
To praise the love that watched me while I
slept;
When with new strength my blood is bounding
free,
The first, best, sweetest hour, I’ll give to Thee.
One hour with Thee, when busy day begins
Her never-ceasing round of bustling care,
When I must meet with toil, and pain, and sins,
And through them all Thy cross must bear ;
0, then to arm me for the strife, to be
Faithful to death, I’ll kneel an hour to Thee.
One hour with Thee, when rides the glorious
sun
High in mid-heaven, and panting nature feels
Lifeless and overpowered, and man has done
For one short hour with urging life’s swift
wheels;
In that deep pause my soul from care shall flee,
To make that hour of rest one hour with Thee.
One hour with Thee, when saddened twilight
flings
I Her soothing charm o’er lawn, and vale, and
grove,
I When there breathes up from till created things
■ The sweet enthralling sense of tiiy deep love;
I And when its softening power descends on me,
IMy swelling heart shall spend an hour with
Thee.
■One hour with Thee, my God! when softly
night
Climbs the high heaven with solemn step and
slow,
[When thy sweet stars, unutterably, bright,
Are telling forth thy praise to men below;
O, then, while far from earth my thoughts would
flee,
I’ll spend in prayer one joyful hour with Thee !
Lesson for Sunday, July 14.
HIDING GOD’S WORD IN OUR HEART.
11 Tliy word have 1 hid in mine heart, that I might, not
sin against thee.”—Psalm cxix. 11.
Dayid’s attachment to the word of
God is worthy the imitation of all be
lievers. It was the source of his joy,
the food of his soul, his companion in
retirement, and his guide through life.
Here we have
A WISE COUKSE TO HE ADOPTED. To
hide God’s work in our heart. It may
be found in the house, in the head, in
the memory, and yet not in the heart.
This includes
Reception. Where it is hidden, it
must be received; and where it is re
ceived, the judgment approves, the af
fections embrace, the heart feels, and
the life conforms to it.
Regard. Many things are hidden,
not so much for concealment as securi
ty. Thus our Saviour speaks of the
“•treasure hid in a field.'’ The man
who prizes God’s word will not rest
satisfied till it is deposited in his heart.
Remembrance. It is hidden in him,
as something to which he has constant
recourse. Memory is the hiding of cer
objects in the mind for future use. A
A sanctified memory is preferable to a
good natural one. The spirit of the
word may be felt in the heart, where
the letter is not retained in the memory.
An important end to be answered.
I” That 1 might not sin against thee.”
Such a course, if it does not keep us
free, yet it will restran us from sin.—
There are some particular seasons when
it will prove a safeguard. It will si
lence our murmurings in the day of
affliction, it will prevent our yielding
in the hour of temptation, it will keep
us from despairing in the period of de
sertion, and, amidst our heaviest trials,
it will lead us to the exercise of confi
dence in our heavenly Father ; and we
shall resemble the affrighted bird on
some lofty tree, in the midst of the
howling wind and storm; though her
pleasing notes are for a season checked,
yet she fixes herself more firmly on the
shaking bough.
‘THE KINGDOM OF GOD IS WITHIN YOU.”
True Christianity is spiritual in its
essential character, and the only locali
ty in this world is the hearts of reno
vated men. This is the kingdom that
Christ came to found and promulge;
and it is the only kingdom that can de
throne sin and Satan ; repair the ruin
of the fall; restore man to the divine
favour; and redeem the world to God.
As such, it is of heavenly origin—a
communication from Jehovah —an out
flowing of the Divine character and
beneficence. It is the wisdom from
above. As the soft splendor of moon
light is only a reflection from tin- beams
of the luminary of day, so all the pie
ty that invests and adorns true Chris
tian virtue, is but the reflected radiance
of the Sun of Righteousness; it had
its source in the infinite blessedness of]
God; was revealed in him who is the
Brightness of his glory, and the Express
Image of his Person ; and it is commu
nicated by the Holy Spirit to the sub
jects of renewing grace. And here it
stands opposed, and in crowning dis
tinction. to all religions of human or
earthly origin. Many are the systems
of belief derived from human specula
tions, and which have been presented
as all that is necessary for mankind in
their present and future existence. —
Pretended philosophers, from the first
idolater to the latest theorist, have
toiled to construct an earthly religion,
which, like Babel’s tower, should pene
trate the upper heaven, and carry its
builders there. But like that old stu
pendous folly, these systems have
scarcely reached the clouds, while their
authors like the degenerate sons ot
Noah, have been confounded and scat
tered. Sublime above them all, in its
heaven-born glory, stands the unearth
ly fabric of Christianity —the spiritual
kingdom of God. Celestial in its ori
gin, brighter than the sun, it shines with
llife-giving and purifying beams, upon
It his darkened world, and wherever the
[light is welcomed to the heart, it makes
la heaven below. It is like the scenes
in the apocalyptic vision of the Prophet
apostle, as he saw the holy city, the
New Jerusalem, coming down from
God out of heaven, prepared as a bride
for her husband; and, as he heard a
great voice out of heaven, saying, “ Be
hold the tabernacle of God is with
men, and he will dwell with them, and
they shall be his people.” Thus an in
fluence from the heart of Deity, an ap
prehending influence, that causes us to
renounce sin, and that draws us to Him
self in holy affection, and to Ilis ser
vice in willing obedience, has been com
municated to our hearts, or we are not
the subject’s of God’s gracious kingdom.
That privilege belongs only to believ
ers in Christ, who are “ born not of
blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor
of the will of man, but of God.” — Rev.
S. D. Phelps.
(folimpsts of linn Souks.
YOU AND I.
From “ Egeria ; or. The Spirit of Nature,’” and other
Poems, by Charles Mackay.
Who would scorn his humble fellow
For the coat he wears ?
For the poverty he suffers ?
For his daily cares?
Who would pass him in the footway
With averted eye ?
Would you, brother? No, you would not.
If you would—not I.
Who, when vice and crime, repentant.
With a grief sincere
Ask’d for pardon, would refuse it—
More than Heaven severe ?
Who to erring woman’s sorrow
Would with taunts reply ?
Would you brother? No, you would not.
If you would—not I.
Who would say that all who differ
From his sect must be
Wicked sinners, Heaven rejected.
Sunk in Error’s sea,
And consign them to perdition
With a holy sigh ?
Would you, brother? No, you would not.
If you would—not I.
Who would say that six days’ cheating.
In the shop or mart,
Might be rubb’d, by Sunday praying.
From the tainted heart,
If the Sunday face were solemn
And the credit high ?
Would you, brother ? No, you would not.
If you would—not I.
Who would say that vice is virtue
In a hall of state ?
Or that rogues are not dishonest
If they dine off plate ?
Who would say Success and Merit
Ne’er part company ?
Would you, brother ? No, you would not. |
If you would—not I.
Who would give a cause his efforts,
When the cause was strong.
But desert it on its failure,
Whether right or wrong—
Ever siding with the upmost,
Letting downmost lie ?
Would you, brother? No, you would not. I
If you would—not I.
Who would bend his arm to strengthen
Warfare with the Right?
Who would give his pen to blacken
Freedom’s page of light ?
Who would lend his tongue to utter
Praise of Tyranny ?
Would you, brother ! No, you would not. I
If you would—not I.
DENMARK AND ITS PEOPLE.
Prom “An Easter Offering,” by Fretlerika Bremer, just
pubbslieil by Harper & Brothers.
THE MOTHER-LAND AND COLONIES.
Denmark! you know it, and yet you
do not know it—this wonderful little
island-kingdom which stretches from the
vicinity of the North Pole, where the
Greenlander tosses in his liajack amid
the icy waves, and sees the spirit of liisl
fathers bunt and sport in the flames of
the northern lights; where eternal death
seems, in Issefjord, to have erected the
pillars of his temple of never-melting
icebergs, which still tremble, and are
sometimes prostrated at the voice of
man; to the Southern Ocean, where,
under the glowing line, the sugar-cane
and the coffee-plant are cultivated by the
negro, and the life of nature never ceases
to bloom in magnificence. Between
Greenland and Santa Cruz —eternal win
ter and eternal summer —lies an archi
pelago of islands, subject to the Danish
crown. Iceland, with the most ancient
memories of the North; the volcanic
cradle of the Scalds; the Faroe isles, pe
culiar in scenery and in people, where,
amid rocks and mists, the sun portrays
Ossianic shapes; the Hilligs, where man
and the sea contend for the earth; and
many, very many more. But Denmark
Proper, the oldest and the original Den
mark—that by whose cradle the vala
songs resounded; that which, in common
with Sweden and Norway, has a mythic
lore, and in it a philosophy of life, loftier
than that of any other people on the
earth ; that from whose shores the Nor
man bands went forth throughout the
world with their heroes and sons ; Den
mark-Proper, the mother-land, consists
of the great and fertile islands where
the beach-woods murmur; where the
stork, the sacred bird of Denmark, builds
its nest; in whose azure creeks the crim
son Dannelrog, tlie national flag, floats,
the beautiful islands of Reatland, Jut
land, and Funen. There has the Danish
people its home.
LIFE IN COPENHAGEN.
In Copenhagen, you are compelled to
say to yourself, “The Danes are a good
looking people.” You see so many
pleasant countenances, though so few
beautiful ones; the contour is more oval,
the features finer than in Sweden. In
Sweden prevails more strength and
beauty of the eye; in Denmark, a charm
ing and lively expression of the mouth ;
the complexion is fresh, the expression
joyous and kind. The ladies dress with
taste and elegance. You see many
black-silk cloaks, or mantillas; white
bonnets, with flowers or feathers, abound
on the Esplanade, the Lange-linie, along
the Sound, the Bred-gade, and the Oster
gade. Oster-gade ! frightful to the me
momory of every quiet soul who is un
accustomed to the bustle of Copenhagen,
and who finds himself under the neces
sity of purchasing articles of clothing;
for, whatever you want —bonnet, cap,
lace, ribbons, shawls, material for dresses,
parasol, umbrella, gloves, stockings, shoes
—for all these you are directed to the
Oster-gade; and when you arrive in this
street, morning, noon, or night, whatever
be the time, you find the whole city
there already —purchasing, walking, talk
ing, and looking about. If thou art in
the dangerous condition of being obliged
to hasten through Oster-gade, in order
to reach the other side of the city, then,
poor, inexperienced wanderer, commit
thy soul into God’s hand, and make thy
way if thou canst. But prepare thyself
for exertion, opposition and vexation ;
for at the very commencement, as thou
art attempting to advance, three ladies
and five servants, each with a basket on
her arm, stop, and if thou endeavour to
pass to the right, there comes a row ot|
sailors in full speed; if to the left, two
gentlemen in the greatest hurry, cigar in
mouth, rush on before thee, while seven
trading dames meet thee at the same
moment, and if thou wilt pass between
them, thou art hindered by a man and
his wife, who go arm-in-arm, not as if
wedded, but welded together. Throng
follows throng: you can no longer dis-1
tinguish individuals, and as you stop,
that you may not trample to death orl
smother a little child that comes between|
you and the others, a shop-boy dartsj
headlong out of a shop, past you, into the!
street, so close to your nose that you are!
confounded not to find it flattened to
your face; at the same time that an old
gentleman treads on your heels behind.
OCHLENSCHLAGER.
Perfect, fully armed, like Minerva from!
the head of Jupiter, was born the north-!
ern tragic muse; not Grecian, Shakspe-|
rian, but Scandinavian, taking for her|
ground the northern popular traditW
and history; the northern heroic ljf
with its peculiar colouring in hatred an!i
love; its lyrical fascination; its powerful
every-day mode of thought, and th!’
great moral significance which is din,'*
verable in the life and combats 0 f it.
gods and giants. She stepped forth ‘1
transfigured glory before the eyes of th
[people, awakening and admonishing
[them in the lofty stature of anting
[drama and song’; and even to this da’
[the happy poet, the father of northern tra
[g ed y—eed we indeed name Adam Ock
lenschlager!—still youthful and stron i
[with creative energy, gathers up I
[laurels to those he has already won—. a ,
[just lately in his heroic poem', “ ‘ I
iLodbrok.” K |
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
| Who in the educated world has u 0 |
[heard speak of Hans Christian Ander I
[sen’s Fairy-Tales for children? I n th. I
[child they awaken the thoughtful man
and we, full grown people, are a<r a j n
[converted by them into good and happy
[children. Andersen is himself a “wonder
[child,” whom some good fairy has gifted
[in the cradle. His life is ‘a real fain
tale, in which the poor lad, who began
|liis career in lowliness and want, closes it
[with honour and good luck ; it \>egan in
[the humble cottage, and it ends in the j
[saloons of royal palaces.
Known and beloved also as a romauc*-
writer and lyrical poet, Andersen's true
peculiar mastership, lus originality and
his immortality are in his Tales, hi
these he is second to no one. In the-,
he is the son of the legendary Nort h. I
[where Samund and Snorre sung wonder j
ful adventures, where the oldest story I
teller, the old woman, Turida, sate in tin
twilight of history, by the flames of
Heckla, relating old tales which have
come down from generation to genera
tion. The spirit of this old story-teller
is changed since then; her theme is non
[no longer the deeds of violence and tin
[vengeance of blood, and tin- long, loin
[hatred which grew silently from year to
[year among contending kindred, until,
like the avalanche of the Alps, it was pre
cipitated by its own weight, and crushing
[all that came in its way, found rest onlv
[in the grave which itself dug. Those
[stories belong to far-past times. Then 1
[latest are children of light, and cast their I
[beams over the children of men.
RSisrdlnraj.
From the Louisiana Spectator.
PHILANTHROPY vs. OSTENTATION, j
Some few years since, late on a sultrv j
[night, sat a gentleman whose fortunes
[had been crushed by false friendship. *
inside the door of an humble tenement, g
|waiting for the sound of a neighbour- f
ing clock to administer the hourly pre- |
[scription of an M. D. to his afflicted I
[wife. Their three little cherubs were I
[locked in the arms of sleep. A stranger. ]
[in passing, asked if Mr. A. resided j
[there. The gentleman responded, and
lam that unfortunate man.”
I “1 have a letter for you, sir.”
I “Ah!” exclaimed the forlorn, “Is it
[for weal or wo?”
He tendered the billet: “I am in ft
[haste,” said the messenger.
His proffered hand was received bv I
[courtesy: the thrilling touch at once I
told it was % Masonic brother! and he
immediately left. The clock struck
one, the hour to administer the medi
cine. She arose. “Oh! what a sweet
sleep I have had —how calm I feel!
What is this falling on my cheek? It
is a tear! What is this? Why do
you weep? I am better, love, much
better.”
“I have a letter!” replied the hus
band.
“Ah! what! more persecution!’
“Here it is, unopened ; bring me a
light!”
It w T as opened, and revealed a five
hundred dollar b'll enclosed in a blank
sheet, with the exception of the words.
“A Mason.”
“It is now near the dawn of day
she said, “you have not slept for two
nights—rest, rest —I can take my own
medicine—sleep!”
He did sleep, and at a late hour in
the morning, he was awakened by the
balmy kiss of his beloved wife.
“Dear, I’ve had a dream.”
“No,” she replied, “it is a reality.’
“Strange!”
“Strange, or not strange, it is true,
she replied; “here is your breakfast,
and an egg boiled to your taste, with
toast and tea. Here are your clothes,
flake John with you and go to Mrs. M.
I You’ll fatigue. Here is ten dollar
[pocket money for you, and five dollars
[tor Mrs. M. At 3 o’clock w r e leave
[this hovel. As you l<>ve me. 1 beg of
you not to interfere. God is great, and
God is good! Do, dearest, take the
hoy and leave us. In the evening we li
meet. Cheer, husband, well thrive
again!” And so they did.
The Wife’s Commandments. —A
late Cincinnati paper gives the follow
ing as a correct version, for the use ol
all doubting husbands. Listen:
1. Thou shalt have no other wile
but me.
•2. Thou shalt not take into thy house
any beautiful brazen image of a servant
girl, to bow down to her, to serve her.
for I am a jealous wife, visiting, &c.
3. Thou shalt not take the name ot
thy wife in vain.
4. Remember thy wife to keep her
respectable.
5. Honour thy wife’s father aiw
mother.
0. Thou shalt not fret.
7. Thou shalt not find fault wit-
I dinner.
I 8. Thou shalt not chew tobacco, nor
Itake snuff.
9. Thou shalt not be behind tin
Ineighbour.
10. Thou shalt not visit the run’
[tavern; thou shalt not covet the tavern
[keeper’s rum, nor his brandy, nor nn
[gin, nor his whiskey, nor his wine.
[anything that is behind the bar ot 1 ‘
Irumseller. >
j 11. Thou shalt not visit the bulls
[saloons —neither for worshipping 111 ’ ‘
[dance, nor for the heaps of mono.’
[lie on the table. t
’ And the twelfth comm 4lll ‘ IU . ’
jthou shalt not stay out later t a
[o’clock at night.
| The Crystal Palace.—ln the
[surrounding one of the palaces
I King of Siam, there is a summer L
ion which seems the work of ina £ lc . ht
is entirely of crystal; it is twenty
feet long and seventeen wide.
walls, the ceiling, the tables, the seats
Hi are of crystal. The cement h,c>
unites the different parts ot the edifice