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ture is more likely to knock down the oiator than his opponent. 21. The ouly true independence L in humility; tor the humb.e man ex acts nothing, and cannot be mortified, —expects nothing, and cannot be disap pointed. Humility is also a healing virtue; it will cicatrize a thousand wounds, which pride would keep foi ever open. But humility is not the viitue of a fool; since it is not conse quent upon any comparison between ourselves and others, but between w hat we are and what we ought to be, — which no man ever was. 22. The greatest of all fools is the proud fool, —who is at the mercy of every fool he meets. 23. There is an essential meanness in the wish to get the better of any one. The only competition worthy of a wise man is with himself. 24. He that argues for victory is but a gatnbier in words, seeking to enrich himself by another’s lo>s. 25. Some men make their ignorance the measure of excellence; these are, of course, very fastidious critics ; for, knowing little, they can find but little to like. 2ti. The Painter who seeks popu larity in Art closes the door upon his own genius. 27. Popular excellence in one age is hut the mechanism of what was good in the preceding; in Art, the technic. 28. Make no man your idol, for the best man must have finds; and his faults wili insensibly become yours, in addi tion to your own. This is as true in Art as in morals. 29. A man of genius should not aim at praise, except in the form of sympa thy ; this assures him of his success, since it meets the feeling which possess ed himself. 30. Originally in Art is the individ ualizing the Universal; in other words, the impregnating some general truth with the individual mind. 31. The painter who is content with the praise of the world in respect to what does not satisfy himself, is not an artist, but an artisan ; for though his reward be only praise, his pay is that of a mechanic, —for his time, and not for his art. (tunmil (Brlrrtir. MILES’ PHILOSOPHIC THEOLOGY. The celebrated Theologian and pi i losuj her, Dr. Augustus Neander of Germany, in an article pulished in the Deutsck Zietschriftfur Christliche Wisr senchaft und Christiiches Leban thus s] eaks of Mr. Miles’ late work : The author understands by leson (in opposition to formal understanding), the faculty of spiritual intuition. ‘lhe book consists of two parts. The first contains a correspondence between a sceptic and his friend, upon the essence of religion and Christia .ity ; the se con 1, a further inve tigation into vari ous points of theology connected with the subject. This work written by a young man in Charleston, S. C. who, we hear, is a missionary elurned from the East In d.es) we have perused throughout with uniform interest, and for the most part with cordial and cheerful approval; and we esteem it as an imnoitant publica tion in the field of Christia i philosophy, theological, ad apologetic. We re gard it as a remarkable and gratifying sign of the times, one of those signs in dicating the dawning era of anew de velopment of theology, which is not to be repressed by any power of contra die ion or retaliatory reaction. It is evident that the influence of a Kant, a Jacobi, a Schilling, a Schleiermacher, has directly or indirectly, already dif fused itself far beyond Europe. We recognise the influence of these new. leading ideas, which foin their first spiritual laboratory in our Fatherland —(a country de tilled to remain faith ful to that position in the world acquired for it through the Reformation), have al ready produced a flood which will ever spread wi er to all the regions of the earth. It is e ident that the author, a ma 1 of deep religious and Christian ea nestuess, united to a clear and inde pendent mi :d, ha - taken a lively inter est in, and has himself been deeply move 1 by, the various conflicting views and questions, which also agitate the minds of Germany, and which, assum ing ever more and more a p aetical form, become the soul of all the great phenomena and revolutions of the world, lie has become convinced, that the old apologetic method of the English ‘ Evidences, 5 is no longer tena ble; that from the periphery we must enter more into the centre ; that in stead of being occupied with isolated historical and dogmatic questions, we must advance therefrom to examine in to the essence of the religious and mo ral nature of man, to comprehend Chris tianity in its relation to that nature, and to establish how the fundamental wants of the mind can only find their true satifaetion in Christianity. lie is penetrated with the conviction, that the whole spiritual development of man is ever more and more pressed to make its decision between the only alterna tives of two antitheses, which admit of no reconciliation and no middle ground ; the alternative, on one hand, ot faith in a living, supra-mun lane, personal God, as he has revealed him self in Christ; or, on the other hand, of a comfortless Pantheism, demanding from us the annihilation of our true self, a id standing in contra lictiou to the necessit.es and demands implanted ii our innermost being. The author recognises that Christianity is not so much a fixed system of concept o s. a-i a system of new, divine, world-trans forming tacts, wherein is founded anew potency of life, hearing also with it a new system of higher intuitions. lie recognizes in the fact of the manifesta tion of God in Christ, the central poi t of all Christianity ; he knows well how to distinguish between Chr stian con science, spiritua intuition, a:id the fo:- nial conception of dogmas. He is tar from bibliolatry ; far, there b e, from seeing, in the B.ble, a mere inspired G >dex, and seeking in its explanations of ihat w hich docs not concern the in teie ts of the religious and moral na tive of man. He knows that the truths o salvation peitain to a sphere alto gether different from that of the sub jects ot geographical, historical, geog n< stc or physical science; he kn ws that the fun.iamental truths of the Gos sel can actually come in conflict with no prog ess in any de, ailment of science. \Y iih reJgious earue;stne.ss and a sober ness and purity of spirit, of which out age has pecul nr need, he sepaiates dis tinctly the boundaries of the reliinou and of a scientific sphere, w hich cannot come into contact with religion. But he is also far from undervaluing the high significance of the Bible for re i :ious faith. Far from a mechanical notion of inspiration, he knows web how to conceive it as the spec al work of the Divine Spiiit. He sees, in the Apostles, men to whom in the divine ,ight higher intuitions of divine thing were given. Whilst the author thus places himself in the central point of Christianit , as the satisfaction of the fundamental necessities of our nature, and knows how to disting fish Christian consciousness and dogma, he is also elevated above the narrowness of sec tarian opposition. His whole theolo gical way of thinking is of one piece. We tender to him our hand, ns to one of those dispositions and spiritual re lations, who, in the great, hot battle of the present time, will ever draw more and more together, as one band. — This work as a remarkable sign of the times, deserves to be also known in our own land. The Courier, from which we copy, very properl adds: The kindnes and value of such a cri ticism from Dr. Neander is enhanced by a knowledge of the fact that the learned Professor is almost blind; that the assistance of a Sec etary is neces sary to read aloud to him such works as he may think worthy of a perusal, and that, cot equently, the harecircum stauce of his ha ving found anew work so interesting as to reward him for the loss of time in reading it, is of itself no insignificant testimony. (T’jjc jnim’ii Slltnr. A BEAUTIFUL THOUGHT. BY BISHOP DOANE. _____ Chisel in hand stood a sculptor boy, With his marble block befo e him, And his face lit up, with a smile of joy, As an angel dream pas ed o’er h.m. He carved the dieam on that shapeless stone, With many a sharp incision : With heaven’s own light the culptor shone— He caught the angel vision. Sculptures of fife are we, as we stand With our soul uncarved, before us: Waiting the hour, when at God’s command, Our Lfe-dream passes o’er us. If we carve ii then, on the yielding stone, Wiih many a t harp incision, Its heavenly beauty shall be our own, Our lives that angel vision. Lesson for Sunday, August 18. THE EXCELLENCY OF THE DIVINE BEING. “ God is a Spirit.”—John iv. 24. When a celebrated heathen poet was asked by a certain monarch, What is God f he demanded a day to think upon it; at the close of which he de sired two days more; at the expiration of that time he reque ted four days in addition. The king, surprised, asked him what he meant by it; to which the poet answered, —“ The more 1 think of God, the more incomprehensible and mysterious he appears.” There are three conci e descriptions given of the Almighty in Scripture;—God is light. God is love, and God is a Spii it. 11e IS THE MOST EXCELLENT OF ALL beings. We who dwell in tabernacle of c ay, so intimately connected with flesh and blood, and so naturally iin pressed with sensible objects, cannot possibly know much of the nature of a spirit. We cannot understand what our own souls are ; we know less of the nature of angels, w hich are of a supe rior order to us; and infinitely less can we conceive of the nature of the Fa ther of spirits. God has in him all the perfections of a spiritual nature; and since we have no notion of any kind of spiritual property but what we dis cover in our own souls, we join infini tude to each of these properties, and what is a faculty in a human soul be comes an attribute in God. We exist in place and time, the Divine Being fills the immensity of space with his presence, and inhabits eternity. We are possessed of limited power and knowledge, he is almighty and omnis cient. He is light without darkness, love without unkindness, good without evil, and purity without uncleanness. “O L< >rd, our Lord, how r excellent is thy name in all the earth!” He is a living and active being- When we speak of a spirit, life and ac tivity are implied in the term. Vege table, animal, intellectual, spiritual and eternal life are derived from him. lie is sty led, by way of e minence, “ the living God.” The capacity of acting by hitnse f, or in Trinity of persons in one undivided Godhead, he possessed before any creature was formed; other wise he could not have created all things by a word. —and we are assured that he shall continue to order and govern all things to the glory of his great name; “for of him, and through him, and to him, are all things ; to whom be glory for ever, amen.” We here see that the knowledge of God in the Gospel is in finitely more glorious than the know ledge of him in nature, inasmuch as Scripture revelation is above natural reason ; let us seek the knowledge of him in our own experience. A Chain of Influence. —The 31st of January, 1841, when Mr. Jay, of Bath, England, completed fifty years of his ministry, it was observed by peo ple as a J übilee. On that occa ion the Rev. Timothy East, of Birmingham, stated, that a errnon Mr. Jay preached in London in the ea Jy part of his min i-try. was bles-ed to the conversion of a thoughtless and dissolute young man, who became a nr ini ter. A sermon preached by that minister thirty-nine years ago, was the arrow of tiie Al mighty that brought Mr. East to re pentance, just as he had determined to leave his native country forever. And a sermon preached by Mr. Ea t twen ty-seven years ago, in London, was the means of the conversion of a careless, gay, and dissi| ated young man, who was John VVil Jains, the late missionary to the South Seas. ♦ Where Shall 1 go Last of All. A Hindoo, of a thoughtful, reflecting turn of mind, but devoted to idolatry, lay on his death-bed. As he saw hirn hiinself about to plunge into that bound less unknown, he cried out, “What will become of me 1” “ O,” said a brahmin, who stood by “you will in habit another body.” “ And where” said he, “shall I go then I” “into another.” “Andwheie then,” “Into another, and so on, through thousands of millions.” Darting across this whole SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE. period as though it we;e but an in fant, he cried, ‘"Where sha.l 1 go then/’ Paganism could, not answer, and he died agonizing under the inquiry /‘where hall 1 go last of all V’ (Ipliiiipsw of lira ißooks. R AT f L F-S N A K ES. [From Mr. Lautuau's new work entitled “ Haw-no-hoo, or R‘cor.lt* oi a Tourist,published by Lippincott, Grutnbo &i Cos. 01 PnilaJetphia.] We beiieve that we have seen a greater number of these reptiles, in our various journeyings, and been more in tensely frightened by them than any other scenery-loving tourist or angler in the country, and hence the idea of our present essay. We shall record our stock of information for the benefit of the general reader, rather than for the learned and scientific, beginning our re marks with what we k..o\v of the char acter of that reailv beautiful and mag nanimous but most deadly animal, which was adopted as the Revolutiona ry emblem of our country, as the ea gle is now the emblem ofthe Republic. The rattlesnake derives its name from an instrument attached to its tail, consisting of a series of hollow scaly pieces which, when shaken, make a rat tling or rustling noise. The number of these pieces or rattles is said to correspond with the number of years which the animal has attained, and some travellers assert that they have been discovered with thirty rattles, though thirteen in a much more com mon number. It is one of the most venomous of serpents, and yet one that we cannot but respect, since it habitu ally makes the inos honourable use of the singular appendage with w hich it is gifted. It never strikes a fi>e without first warning him of his danger. In form it is somewhat corpulent, has a Hat heart-shaped head, and is supplied with fangs, varying from a half-inch to an inch in length, w hich lie hidden hori zontally in the flesh of the upper jaw. and are capable of being thrown out like tho blade of a knife. The venom emitted by it is so deadly that it has been known to cause the death of a human being in a very few hours, and to destroy a dog or cat in less than twenty minutes, and yet we have met with some ha'f-dozeti individuals in our tra vels who have beeu bitten by the rat tlesnake without being seriously injured. Horses and cattle are known to become exceedingly terrified at its appeaance, and generally r speaking, when bitten, die in a short time, and yet we once saw a horse, which was only troubled in consequence of its bite, by a disease resembling the scurvy. The hair dipp ed from the skin ofthe quadruped, and he looked horribly it he did not feel so. As to the effect of this poison upon hogs, it has fi equently been proven to be perfectly harmless, and we know it to be the custom in certain portions of the country for farmers to employ their swine for the express purpose of destroy ing the rattlesnakes infesting their land, The effect ofthe rattle snake’s bite upon itself is said to be generally fatal. In regard to the anti dote of this poison we are acquainted with only one, w hich is the plant com monly eailed the rattlesnake weed.— Both the leaf and the root are employ ed, and applied internally as well as externally. 1 his plant grows to the height of six or eight imhes, has one stock and a leaf ie embling in shape the head of the rattlesnake, and is al most invariably found in those sections ofthe country where the reptileabounds. ihe courage of the rattlesnake is by no means remarkable, and it is but seldom that they will dispute the right of way with a man who is not afraid of them. They are sluggish in their move ments, and accomplish the most of their traveling during the nocturnal hours. I hey feed upon almost every variety of living creatuies which they can over power. They a e not partial to water, but when compelled to cross a river or lake, they perform the feat in a most beautiful manner, holding their heads about one foot from the suiface, and gliding along at a rapid rate. They are aflfectiouate creatuies, and it is alleged that when their offspring are very young, and they are disturbed by the presence of man, the mothers swallow their little ones until the danger is past, and then disgorge them alive and writhing. Another of their peculiarities con sists in the fact, that they may be en tirely disarmed by brandishing over their heads the leaves of the white ash, which are so obnoxious to their nervous system as to produce the most painful contortions of the body. When travel ing at night in search of food, or for pur poses of recreation, as it may be, they have a fit -h. on of visiting the encamp ments of hunters, and it has been ascer tained that the only way of keeping them at a respectable distance is to en circle the camp with a rope, over w hich they are afraid to crawl ; —and it has frequently happened to hunters, in a snake country, that on awaking after a night of repose, they have discovered on the outside of their magic circle as many as a dozen of the charming crea tures, carefully coiled up and sound asleep. It is also related of this snake that it has the power of throwing off or suppressing a disagreeable effluvium, which is quite sickening to those who come within its range. If this be true it occurs chiefly in the month of Au gust, when the weather is sultry and the snake is particularly fat. That this snake has the power of charming , as some writers maintain, may be true, but we know not of an authenticated instance. That it may have a very quiet way of srealing upon its prey seems to us much more plausible—but upon this fact we are non-committal. As to their power of hissing —that al so is an undecided quest on. In regard to their manner of biting we can speak w ith moie confidence. They never at tack a man without first coiling them selves in a graceful manner, and instead of jumping they merely extend their bodies, with the quickness of thought, tow ards their maik, and if they do not reach it, they have to coil themselves again for a second effort, and when they hit a man at all, it is generally on his heel, for the bruising of which they have the authority of the Scriptures. The rattlesnake is peculiar to the American continent. Four varieties alone are known to naturalists, three of which are found in the United States, and one in South America. In the States bordering on the Gulf of Mexico they attain the length of seven and eight feet and a diameter of three to four inches—the males having four fangs, and the females only two. These are characterized by a kind of diamond figure on the skin, and are partial to the low or bottom lanJs of the country. — Those found in the Middle and Northern States are eailed the common or band ed rattlesnakes, and are altogether the most abundant in the Union. They vary in length from two and a half to four feet, and are partial to mountain ous and rocky districts. There is also a very small, but most dangerous va riety, called the ground rattlesnakes, which are found on the sterile and sandy praries of the West, and to a limited extent in the barren districts of the South. In Canada they are al most unknown, and even in the more thickly settled States of the Union they are rapidly becoming extinct. As to their value, it may be stated that their oil and gall are highly prized in all sec tions of the Union for medicinal pur po-es, and by the Indian and slave popu lation of the South, their fle>h is fre quently employed as an article of food, and reallv considered sweet and nour ishing. ‘Hie attachment of the Aborigines to this famous reptile is proverbial: among nearly all the tribes, even at the pre sent day, it is seldom disturbed, but is designated by the endearing epithet of grandfather. It is recorded, however, by the early historians, that when one tribe desired to challenge another to combat, they were in the habit of send ing into the midst of their enemy the skin ofa lattlesnake, w hereby it would appear to have been employed as an emblem of revenge. And as to the origin of the rattlesnake, the old men among the Cherokees relate a legend to the following effect, which, the reader will notice, bears a sti iking analogy to the history of our Saviour. Avery beautiful young man, w ith a white lace and wrapped in a white robe, once made his appearance in their nation, and com manded them to abandon all tneir old customs and festivals, and to adopt a new religion. He made use of the softest language, and everything that he did proved him to be a goad man. It so happened, however, that he could make no friends among them, and the medicine men of the nation conspired to take away his life. In many ways did they tty to do this —by lasting him with serpents and by giving him poison, but were always unsuccessful. But in process of time the deed was accom plished and in the following manner.— It was known that the good stranger was in the habit of daily visiting a cer tain spring for the purpose of queneh ing his thirst, and bathing his liody.— In view’ of this fact, the magicians made a very beautiful war-club, inlaid with bone and shells, and decorated with rattles, and this club they offered to the Great Spirit, with the piayer that he would teach them how to destroy the stranger. In answer to the prayer, a venomous snake was created and carefully hidden under a leaf by the side of the spring. The stranger, as usual, came theie to drink, was bitten by the snake, and perished. The Che rokee nation then fell in love with the snake, and having asked the Great Spiiit to distinguish it, by some pecu liar mark, from all the other snakes in the world, he complied by transferring to its body the rattles which had made the club of sacrifice so musical to the ear, and so beautiful to the eye. And from that rattlesnake are descended all the poisonous snakes now scattered through the world. We commenced this article with the determination of not wiitinga single paragiaph (for the above legend, after a fa hion, is historical,) whic h could be classed with the unbelievable things called “Snake Stories,” but the follow ing matter-of-fact, though disconnected anecdotes, may not he unacceptable to our readers. We were once upon a fishing expe dition among the mountains of North Carolina, with two other gentlemen, when it so happened that we concluded to spend the night in a deserted log cabin, belonging to one of the party. By the light of a large fire, we partook of a cold but comfortable supper, and after talking ourselves into a drowsy mood, we huddled together on the floor, directly in front of the fire-place, and were soon in a sound sleep. About midnight, when the fire was out, one of the party was awakened by a singular rattling noise, and having roused his companions, it was ascertained beyond a doubt that there were two rattlesnakes within the room where they were lying. We arose, of course, horrified at the idea, and as we were in total darkness, we were afraid even to move for fear of being bitten. We soon managed, however, to strike a light, and when we did so, we found one of our visitors on the hearth, and one in the remotest corner of the room. We killed them, as a matter of course, with a most hearty relish, and in the morning anoth er of the same race, just without the threshold, of the cabin. The reptiles had probably left the cabin just before ou r arri val, and on ret urning at midnight, had expressed their displeasure at our intrusion upon their abode, by sound iug their rattles. On another occasion we were of a party of anglers who killed a rattle snake on one of the mountains over looking Lake George (where this rep tile is very abundant), and after its head had been cut off and buried, one of the party affirmed that there was not a per son present who could take the dead snake in his hand, hold it out at arm’s length, and give it a sudden squeeze, without dropping it to the ground. A wager was offered, and by the most cu iions and courageous of the party was accepted. lie took the snake in his Land and obeyed the instructions, when the serpentine body suddenly sprang, as if endowed with life, and the head less trunk struck the person holding it with considerable force upon the arm. To add that the snake fell to the ground most suddenly is hardly necessary.— W e enjoyed a laugh at the expense of our ambitious friend, but the pheno menon which he made known, remains to this day entirely unexplained. Since that time we have been led to believe that there is not a man in a thousand who would have the fortitude to suc ceed in the experiment above men tioned. The forces of compression and ex tension are equal within the limit, and consequently a triangular beam, pro vided it : s not loaded beyond that limit, will have the same amount of deflection, whether the base or apex be uppermost, and a flanged beam the defection, whether the flange be at the top or bottom. (Driginnl jMrt}. THE WORKERS. “He that laboureth, laboureth for himself.” Proverbs. I saw the man of leisure, And I saw the man of toil; The one sought only pleasure, The other tilled the soil. Alike these men were sowing, In the ga den spot of fife, While all around were growing The weeds of want aud strife. And he who wrought for pleasure, Left the weeds ju.-t where they grew, And wasted there God’s treasure— Pearls, pure as heavenly dew. But he, the humble toiler, Quick upturn’d the yielding earth, And rooted out each spoiler, As flowers of nothing worth. Then came the summer shower, The warm and genial sun, On every leaf and flower, Neglected was not one. And after that each reaper Came to gather where he’d strown— Old Time-life’s vigil keeper Alike o’er both had flown. But he, the man of pleasure, Had naught but chaff and weeds; The other in full measure, Gathered of lofty deeds. Roswell, Ga. RUSTICUS. (Original (Ussnijs. For the Southern Literary Gazette. EGEIiIA: Or, Voices from the Woods and Wayside. NEW SERIES. LXXXVIII. Style. You hear a great deal said about the detection of a writer by his style; but this is sheer nonsense.’ An author of any skill and experience can make his style what he pleases and im pose on whom he will. No doubt, when he has no motive for concealment, and when the plan of his work is one with which he has made his public fa miliar, you may read him then as easily as his book. But, the truth is that every species of composition calls for its own language. There is a style proper to the book itself, to the object which the writer has in view, and to the tone which he determines to em ploy —and artistieal necessity requires that he should acknowledge all these, in the peculiar mode in which he gives them form. His style must vary with his subject, and with the particular mood in which his conception has been obtained. In other words, every book must have its own style, peculiar to its character rather than to that of the writer, and the author may show just as much or just as little of himself as he thinks proper. LXXXIX. Earnestness. Habitual earnestness is necessary to a successful prosecution of the business of life, no matter of what character. But to be exceedingly, or even moderately earnest, in trifles, is apt to make the person unamiable. Pursued beyond a certain point in so ciety, and earnestness becomes aperity. We should never forget that an argu ment urged to a conclusion where we are to gain nothing but a triumph over the pride or the ignorance of another, is a victory won at the expense ofvirtue. XC. Pleasure. Pleasure is one of those commodities which are sold at a thous and shops and bought by a thousand customers, but of which nobody ever fairly finds possession. Either they know not well how to use, or the com modity will not keep, for no one has ever yet appeared to be satisfied with his bargain. It is too subtle for transi tion, thcugh sufficiently solid for sale. XCI. Fitness of Things. I suppose that many persons would envy the bird his song his wing and his freedom, were it not that grubs were by no means a favourite dish. It were to be wished that where the uses of the man were wanting we could prompt to these of the bird, or even of the grub. XCII. Infirmity of Purpose. There are some people in the world who, still thinking what they shall do, do nothing because of their thinking- They act on the return of great comets. Ordi narily, their sole employment seems to consist in beating against every star in the heavens. XCIII. Dead Weights. The wonder is, not that the world is so easily governed, but that so small a number of persons will suffice for the purpose. There are dead weights in political and legislative bodies as in clocks, and hundreds an swer as pullies who would never do for politicians. XCIV. Population. A people never fairly begins to prosper till necessity is tread ing on its heels. The growing want of room is one of the sources of civiliza tion. Population is power, but it must be a population that, in growing, is made daily apprehensive of the morrow. xcv. Consideration. The only true source of politeness is consideration —that vigilant moral sense which never loses sight of the rights, the claims and the sensibilities of others. This is the one quality, over all others, necessary to make the gentleman. XCVI. Gratitude. A proper gratitude as sumes that you will give the shell to him who has furnished you with the oyster. XCVII. Consolation of Merit. It may con sole us, and it was probably intended that it should, that our merit, if not duly appreciated by our associates, sel dom escape our own penetration. XCVIII. Paragraphs. Great men are mon strously afraid of little paragraphs, as the noblest steed may be goaded into madness by the insects that fastens on his rear. XCIX. Equanimity. Keep your mind, as Seneca counsels, always above the moon, and you will never suffer from the rising or falling of the tides. C. Prayers to Fortune. What man would be fortunate or happy if J upiter listened to all his prayers. — For the Southern Literary Gazette. THE WAYS OF PROVIDENCE. “ Thy ways are not my ways, nor thy thoughts my thougats.”— Bible. How frequently is it in life that we see events which we neither understand, nor can in any natural way account for, and yet we undertake to arraign the goodness of God, by forming a reason for them, based in our own jaundiced imaginations. A child is removed from its parents in its beautiful days of innocence and its earthly tenement consigned to the clods of the valley or made a tennant of the silent tomb bv the hill-side; and by this removal from this mortal state of sin and sorrow, its home has been exchanged, as we trust, for a purer and brighter world of chastened spirits. Yet such a removal from the ills at tendant on life, that perhaps may have eminently surrounded its pathway here, has, by the gloomy conjecturings of a i diseased imagination, been spoken of as an evidence of “the wrath of God.” “ Every day,” said one of these gloomy divines, “brings fresh evidences of the wrath of an angry God.” Then truly is “his wrath mercy,” and “his anger loving kindness,” and sweet wellings of soothing relief; while the necessary innocence of the little temporary suf ferer, pleads angel-tongued with us, for its being in the special care of the j Watchman who never slumbers. The individual who made the observation above alluded to, is personally unknown |to us, even by name or residence; but we have heard similar sentiments ex pressed before, and we would here as sure all who suffer under such painful views of the providence of God, that : they have our warmest and kindest I wishes that they may entertain and | cherish more just views of its happy action, and clearer perceptions of its i benevolent consequences. To all such, we would recommend a careful study of the parable of the prodigal son, and i the sweet assurances which flowed from His lips who said, in the benignity of his nature, “Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.” We must confess that it would be dif ficult for us to perceive how the King dom of Heaven can be peopled in any other way than by our Heavenly Fa ther’s love and kind influences. In our view, the cloud that shoots the bolt is big with mercy and clad in the bright garments of love. The very tears that flow down the cheek of its doating pa rents and weeping friends, come laden with a mission of kindness and sweet wellings of soothing relief, while its necessary innocence pleads, “angel tongued,” with us for its being in the special and gracious care of “the Watchman who never slumbers.” The outwellings of sorrow may glisten in our own hearts and spread a sunlight around our heads; and mortality that set shrouded in clouds of doubt and fearful foreboding, may arise in a hap pier state, in the bright garments of beauty, and surrounded by the sweet influences of divine love. We believe that every pang of suffering is guided by an Angel of Mercy and not a Min ister of Wrath, even to the sting of death, which shall be swallowed up (we are told) in victory. These sufferings here, separate us from the mortal ene mies which we have raised up in our own bosoms, or inherited from our pre decessors, and introduce us to happier associations, more ennobling aspira t ons, higher enjoyments. These gloomy views in religion arise, we think, from the natural tendency (probably from our own and our in herited errors) of mankind to mistake the seeming for the real. Our natural perceptions are, that the sun rises and sets, that heat burns and cold freezes, that the dew falls and the dew-drop glistens, the blue vault above us is a circle and the earth a plane; that the colours in plants, flowers, trees, &c., are inherent in themselves; but these are all unphilosophical inferences from false inductions. And if our popular errors are so multiplied from misappre hension of natural causes, which, if we would open our eyes to, we should per ceive to be constantly ministering to our senses, how much more likely to be drawing erronious conclusions in the spiritual world, which we are too apt to clothe in the habiliments of our own angry passions and bitter feelings, as though all things tended to evil rather than to its eradication. Keep the affections of the heart from evil and its fountains will be life-giving—life here and hereafter; and when those you love are removed from you, “soirow not as one without hope.” P. Jamaica Plains, Mass., July 12,1850. cDor I'rttrrs. Correspondence of the Southern Literary Gazette. NEW YORK, Aug. 10, 1850. The prospect of a duel between two individuals well known in certain po litical circles of this city, has excited a slight sensation for a short time, but happily the w hole affair has blown over without leaving any taint of blood in the atmosphere. 1 allude to Seechi di Casali, the editor of the Eco d’ Italia , a weekly journal devoted to Italian politics, and Col. Forbes, an English gentleman, who is said to be in New York on a mission connected with some projects of Mazzini, and other patriots, who have taken a conspicuous part in the struggle for Italian freedom. It seems that Casali and Col. Forbes have not been on friendly terms since the arrival of the latter in this country. Col. Forbes has felt himself aggrieved by certain articles in the Eco , which were supposed to reflect on his char acter. On the arrival of Garibaldi at Staten Island, Casali, who was one of the Committee of Reception for the distinguished exile, was assaulted by Col. Forbes, and received personal vio lence and indignity from his hands, in the presence of several of his country men. The Italian blood was up at once. They resented the blow as a national insult. Garibaldi refused to hold any intercourse with a person who had yielded to a blow, without an at tempt to wipe away the stain. Casali himself, who had been bred to the Church, was not too much inclined to indulge in the dangerous amusement of a duel. His friends insisted on it, that he must call out his adversary or be subject to inevitable disgrace. He was at length induced to send a challenge, which was accepted on the spot by the fire-eating Colonel. Arrangements w ere in rapid progress for the meeting, when the Police got w ind of the affair and immediately took measures to pre vent the threatened crevasse. Mean time, the hot-blooded Italians,on taking counsel with their more phlegmatic American friends, found that burning gunpowder, (except on the Fourth of July,) was not in good odour in New York,and were recommended to smooth over the difficulty, as well as they could, without the use of cold lead. Upon thus learning that, in the opinion of our wise Gothamites, discretion is the bet ter part of valor, and that Romans in New York cannot do as they do in Rome, they succumbed to the genius loci, and have since taken no steps to enable their friend to elude the vigi lance of the Police. So the peace of the city remains unbroken; the festivi ties of the Hoboken saloons have not been disturbed by the sound of pistol shot; and the puisant foes, late on mur derous thought intent, have exchanged their deadly weapons for the more agreeable implements that come in play at Windurt’s and Delmonico’s. The New York State Teachers’ Con vention has been in session for several days in this city. A large collection of distinguished pedagogues of both sexes were gathered in council. A discourse, read by the celebrated Professor Tav lor Lewis, produced quite a decided sensation. In discussing the analytic and synthetic methods of instruction, he took occasion to discharge a tre mendous battery at the so-called friends of “development” and “progress,” whose influence, in his opinion, was fatal to the docile, modest, reverent spirit, which should be inculcated on every pupil,—cherished an overween ing self-reliance and conceit—puffed up the juvenile mind with all sorts of flatulent absurdities —weakened the subjection to authority, which is the essential element of religion—and in short, tended to bold, downright Athe ism. lie strongly avowed his prefer ence for the old-fashioned, authorita tive, geometric, synthetic mode, in which knowledge is set forth ex cathe dra to the starving pupil, enforced with the mild admonition, “Gape, sinner, and swallow,” without giving in to the new-fangled nonsense of analysing every thing into small crumbs of bread, dishes of minced meat, and other mo dern refinements, which seek to do away with the functions both of masti cation and digestion. The assault of the Professor on one of the favourite hobbies of the day, w as not suffered to pass without a stringent opposition. He was pronounced to be altogether behind the age, a regular old fogey in education, and unable to see the glori ous light w ith which almost all eyes in the nineteenth century have been more or less dazzled. A motion to print Mr. Taylor’s discourse was not carried, on the ground that it would involve the Convention in the responsibility for erroneous opinions. Some excitement was also caused by a proposition from Mrs. Emma Wil lard to discuss the theory of Respira tion, on which subject she claims to have made some important discove ries. This was not thought in accord ance with the purposes of the Conven tion, and was at length referred to the Executive Committee without action. The gist of the discovery, I believe, consists in the supposition, that Respi ration, acting on the principle of animal heat, is the cause ot the circulation of the blood. She has applied this theory, according to her own statements, to the cure of the Cholera, with consider able success. Her views are presented in a pamphlet, published several months J since, and probably deserve the atten tion of physiologists. Jenny Lind, it is announced by L American patron, the renowned Bar nurn, will make her first appearance be ] fore a New York audience about 4 middle of September. Every ear i open by anticipation. I see that Greely has an article j. the morning’s Tribune , under his ow> signature, on the Rochester Knocking in which he expresses his con victim that whatever origin may be ascribed to the sounds, the officiating priestesses cannot be charged with collusion or im posture. Greely is evidently SO ni e . what gravelled by the manifestations. In this respect, he is in the same ]i re ’ dicament with Capt. Rynders. Th. both have seen and heard so much that they cannot charge the sisters with r],, ception, but how to account for th* preternatural rub-a-dubs is beyond th- | reach of their philosophy. The prospect of recovering the Sta tue of Calhoun has become more f a voutable within the la-4 three or s ou , days. Mr. Kellogg has been at Fiirl Island the most of this week. 0,,| Thursday another effort was made to I ascertain the position of the Statue. \\ I connexion with the officers of the Unite I States vessels on duty on the spot. 0i 1 grappling in the vicinity of the wreck J the first thing hooked up was recon ; nized by Mr. Kellogg as a part of th stuff which Powers has used to cove the cases of statuary sent to this conn 1 try. On further examination, thcJ found, as they are confident, the easel itself, lying deep in the sand, with J block of marble on the top. It is now j thought by those who are best acquaint ed with the ground, that there can be I little doubt of the preservation of tin- ■ Statue. Anew work is now’ in press bv Put- J nam, which, it is said, will aw aken some 1 interest among scientific men. This is a treatise on Geometry, b\ SebaSmith. ! the author of “Jack Downing's Let ters,” and the husband of the celebrated pootess, Mrs. E. Oakes Smith. In this treatise, Mr. Smith boldly calls in question some of the first principles of the ancient Geometry, and construct-! his system on anew set of the primary j| definitions. According to him, instead! of three kinds of magnitude, there but one, lines, surfaces and solids! having the same dimensions, length! breadth and thickness, and capable :■ being measured by the same unit :l quantity. lam told that these evident I ! paradoxes in mathematics are sustained! with kreat ingenuity and a plausilul show of philosophical reasoning. .M il Smith is a man of acknowledged abi. fl ty, and it must be curious to see whal he can advance in support of such .11 monstrous innovation. But 1 mu-l confess I have no faith that the science I of Geometry is to be revolutionized a; I this time of day. Ilis volume is to be I got up in handsome style, making a I fair octavo of between three and lour I hundred pages. A second edition of the Lorgnette I comprising the first twelve numbers I in a shapely volume, with illustration-1 by Dailey, has just been issued b} I Stringer & Townsend. The designs! are very comical, with a bit more oil exaggeration than Darlev often in-l dulges in. John Timon’s lucubration* will bear reading a second time far bet! ter than the productions of many moral pretentious writers. It is pretty con! fidently whispered that John Timon! Ik Marvell, and a certarn popular an! gentlemanly Mr. Mitchell, are one an 1 the same person. Strangers to me, fl cannot decide on their claims to idee! tity. All I can say is, that if Isl Marvell is the author of the Lorgnette! he is indictable at common law f 1 perpetrating such an outrage on a M Christian English as is found in k 9 “Battle Summer,” a work of too gov-1 stuff to be spoiled by such a detestab.- J style of cookery. “The Conquest of Granada is 11 1 troduced by a prefatory note in Irving'! peculiar vein, explaining the apocrypha- ul portions w hich in the former editions n had east an air of doubt over the vera- 1 cious chronicle. I greatly regret to 9 learn, this morning, that Irving ta’9 been seriously ill at his residence - 9 Sunny Side. The uninterrupted hea 9 which he has enjoyed for many yeai'H past, cannot but make this attack 4|| object of a good deal of solieitud “11*9 his friends. Long may it be bei49 the magic of that silvery tongue >!“•■ be lost in silence. J Livelies.— The fashion ot dress S up servants in livery has been k )U j condemned as anti-republican and j rageous; and some of the cost u displayed on the boxes and footbuai j in Broadway are not the most g nK \j j that could be imagined. NN e P e,tL J I that an eccentric leader of the , J has taken it upon himself to reform - I usage. His servants are ‘, I the utmost exactness, and with P tr fl elegance, in the fashionable co ' tu . 11 I the day. Hats, coats, boots, I everything is just what might >- I by the most accomplished g‘- llU .l Their very whiskers are trim* 111 1 hair, and their b.ack and cmj* ll # ,^1 taehes are the envy of halt t e | of Broadway. Th. A does not differ from his - fl cept in being plainer, and “ i moustache. This ought to saU N who complain of this u "‘* -. /Vl fashion of liveries. But “ ia complaint? Why, that men to wear the badges ot servitu e - why need we quarrel with t “ e . s 4^ l l long as we toleiate the thing “'r’ j So long as men do serve each o , menial capacities, where is the their being marked according')