Newspaper Page Text
stranger to nearly all the partly \* e t\ ere
received as an old triend. The dam
sels were in high glee ; we had a reck
less driver and a span of capital horses,
and of course the young men were not
at all backwards in their deportment.
The first five miles of the road was
very good, and, as we rattled along
the songs, uncouth and shrill, which
were sung awakened many a mountain
echo. But while all this was going on,
and other things which w r e have not
time to mention, the sky became over
cast, and in a short time it began to
rain, and a most intense darkness set
tled upon the world. Our driver be
came bewildered, and the first that we
knew was that he had lost the road,
and that our horses had halted directly
in front of a huge stump. Having
thus unexpectedly been brought to a
stand, the male members of the party
proceeded to reconnoitre, and one of
them fortunately discovered a light at
the distance of half a mile. Towards
this light did the entire party direct
their march, and about twelve o’clock
succeeded in reaching a log-cabin, which
was inhabited by an old hunter ; and
as the guests of this man did the party,
in a very disagreeable mood, spend the
remainder of the night. Long before
the mists had left the valleys on the
following morning, the party had work
ed its way out of the woods, and for a
week afterwards we were frequently
complimented for the important part
that we had taken in the last sugar-bee.
We cannot conclude this article with
out remarking that maple sugar of rare
quality is manufactured in the States
of Vermont, New Hampshire, and
Maine; but as we have never visited
that section of the Union in the spring
we cannot, from personal observation,
speak of the New England sugar camps.
That the maple sugar usually offered
for sale in the Boston and New York
markets is chiefly brought from this
section of country we know to be a
fact, and it is one which forcibly illus
trates the true idea of Yankee enter
prise.
P. S.—Since writing the above, we
have had the pleasure of reading an in
teresting description of a maple sugar
camp , by the eminent ornithologist Mr.
Audubon, from which we gather the
following particulars, viz., that the juice
of the sugar maple was to him a most
refreshing and delicious beverage ; that
it takes ten gallons of this juice to make
one pound of grained sugar; that the
best of the sirup is made at the close of
the sugar season ; and that the sugar
maple is found in abundance from
Maine to Louisiana, invariably growing
on rich and elevated grounds.
LEGEND OF THE WHITE OWL.
It was in the country of the Winne
bagoes, or people of the turbid water,
and there was a great scarcity of game.
An Indian hunter, while returning from
an unsuccessful expedition, at the sunset
hour, chanced to discover in the top of
a tree a large white owl. He knew
that the flesh of this bird was not pala
table to the taste, but as he thought of
his wife and children, who had been
without food for several days, he con
cluded to bend his bow and kill the
termination, before he was astonished
to hear the owl speaking to him in the
following strain : “ You are a very
foolish hunter. You know it is against
the laws of your nation to kill any of
my tribe, and why should you* do
wrong because you happen to be a lit
tle hungry 1 I know that your wife
and children are also hungry, but that
is not a good reason for depriving me
of life. I too have a wife and several
children, and their home is in the hol
low of an old tree. When I left them
a little while ago, they were quite as
hungry as you are, and I am now try
ing to obtain for their enjoyment a red
squirrel or a young opossum. Unlike
you, I have to hunt for my game only
at night, and if you will go aw r ay and
not injure me, I may have it in my
pow r er to do you a kindness at some
future time.”
The Indian hunter was convinced,
and he unbent his bow. He returned
to his wigwam, and after he had told
his wife what had happened to him, she
told him she was not sorry, for she had
been particularly fortunate in gathering
berries. And then the Indian and his
family were contented, and game soon
afterwards became abundant in the land.
Many seasons had passed away, and
the powerful nation of the Iroquois were
making war upon the Winnebagoes.—
The hunter already mentioned had be-
come a successful warrior and a chief.
He was a mark for his enemies, and
the bravest among them started upon
the war-path for the express purpose of
effecting his destruction. They hunted
him as they would the panther, but he
always avoided their arrows. Many
days of fatigue had he now endured,
and, believing that his enemies had
given up the chase, he stopped, on a
certain evening, to rest himself and en
joy a repast of roots. After this com
fortless supper was ended, he wrapped
himself in his skins and thought that
he would lie down and enjoy a little
sleep. lie did so, and the only sounds
which broke the stillness of the air
w’ere caused by the falling of the dew
from the leaves, and the whistling of
the whipporwill. It was now past mid
night, and the Winnebago was yet un
disturbed. A whoop is heard in the
forest, but so remote from his grassy
couch as not to be heard by the uncon
scious sleeper. But what can this
shouting mean? A party of the Iro
quois warriors have fallen upon the trail
of their enemy, and are in hot pursuit.
But still the Winnebago warrior is in
the midst of a pleasant dream. On
come his enemies, and his death is in
evitable. The shouting of the Iroquois
is now distinct and clear, but in the
twinkling of an eye it is swallowed up
in a much louder and more dismal
shriek, which startled the Winnebago
to his feet. He is astonished, and
wonders whence comes the noise. He
looks upwards, and lo ! perched upon
one of the branches of the tree under
which he had been resting, the form of
a large white owl. It rolls its large
yellow eyes upon him, and tells him
rat an enemy is on his trail, and that
e must flee for his life. And this is
’ way in which the white owl mani
iested its gratitude to the Winnebago
unter for his kindness in sparing its
\ui life many years before. And since
that time the owl has ever been con-
Sld ! red , a ver y good and a wise bird
and when it perches above the wig
wam of the red man it is always safe
from harm.
#tnrral (Brlrrtir.
THE NEPAULESE AMBASSADOR
A London letter writer chronicles
his impressions of the lion of the sea
son, the Nepaulese Ambassador:—
Truly he is a gallant, beautiful creature
to look at —thoroughly oriental, which
1 think is the most perfect type of beau
ty —where the finest symmetry of form
is combined with the purest and most
serene composure of expression. Every
feature of him seems fine; the eye,
particularly, is clear, full, and brilliant,
with an inner play, and a shooting
glance and coruscation, like a star, when
the sky is one still, cloudless azure.—
Ilis colour is a light bronze, which only
gives depth and intensity to his counte
nance. He has a very youthful appear
ance, and is not, I believe, much above
20. His step is clean and elastic ; his
bearing high, remote from us, as it were,
like that of a prince who feels as if
it were something to have been born
under the shadow of the mighty Hima
layas. * * * His dress dazzles
and overcomes us, like a summer cloud.
What are we dull, commonplace Euro
peans, compared to that, with our canis
ter of a hat, our scarecrow of a coat,
and our straw-wisps for the under man'?
We shrink away into significance be
fore this gorgeous figure, like those
miserable ninth-parts of a man who
have bungled us into the thing which
we now are. Whuff! how he stalks
past us with a brave, fierce splendour,
like a panther issuing from his own
mountain gorges. On his head he wears
a white silk cap, closely fitting, thick
set and glittering all over with pearl,
loops of bead like emerald-coloured
stone encircling his temples, and the
long feather of the bird of paradise
waving in front, fixed in a large, curi
ously-shaped silver stud, which gleams
right over his forehead. He has a robe
or tunic of rich, deep blue velvet, reach
ing below the knee, with loose scarlet
trowsers ; and all round his breast and
shoulders hangs an ornamental drapery,
a kind of scarfing, rolled in many plaits
and folds, of various coloured silken
tissues. We have been thus particular
as to the dress , because it is not every
day one has to behold or describe such
a blaze of ‘ barbae pearl and gold’ as
we have here. He was followed by a
numerous retinue, the two next to him
in procession being his brothers—fine,
jolly, dusky youths—a sort of Nepau
lese John Bulls, larger and more out
wardly powerful than the ambassador,
but with less of compact energy and
finely developed form. They were
dressed in a similar style to him. but
less grandly and lustrously. A num
ber of officers and attendants came in
succession, two by two, all in the varie
gated and striking oriental costume,
and all, if possible, more oriental, more
caste-like and different from anything
European than their chief, wffiose pecu
liarities are almost entirely smoothed
down by the superior intelligence and
cultivation of his own mind, and by
the plastic effects of travel and foreign
experiences. One hoary old fellow',
with sharp look, and small, keen, por
cupine eyes, made me start back a lit
he had not a bow-string or a scimitar
under the folds of his mantle, I should
not willingly place myself under his ju
risdiction.
Apropos to the Prince, it is stated
that a young English girl of great beau
ty and high spirit, has for some time
past excited much attention at the court
end of London, first, because she has
been much talked of as possessing an
unenviable but fashionable reputation;
and secondly, because she courts noto
riety by the style of her equipage and
the dashing carelessness of her driving.
She is in her way a sort of Lola Mon
tes, determined to make a figure, and
reckless of the means. It is said that
the Nepaulese ambassador has taken
such a fancy to her that she is to ac
company him to the east. It is also
said that her Majesty has been much
scandalized by the appearance of this
young lady in the Nepaulese ambas
sador’s box at the opera, the said box
being next the one occupied by her
herself.
BOSTON LADIES.
A New Yorker in Boston is giving
his impressions of the people of that
city, which of course includes the ladies.
He says:
Boston ladies are not so remarkable
for beauty,as for accomplishments; nor
do the graces of their persons often out
shadow the attractions of their minds.
All those minor acts for the cultivation
of natural grace, which are so assidu
ously cultivated by New Yorkers, are
entirely discarded by Bostonians. They
talk better than they smile ; they ride
better than than they dance, and* they
walk better than they waltz. French
coiffeurs and modistes are not receivable,
and they will not make polka partners
even at the most retired watering places.
The Boston lady is not much upon the
public thoroughfares, she may venture
into Washington street, but it is only
for her shopping, and her morning stroll
upon the heights above the Common,
is simply hygienic; her luxury of
display will be in a ride to Roxbury, or
a pretty ‘straw at the church.’
The Boston lady talks always like a
connoisseur about paintings; and though
her opinions of the new Athenaeum gal
lery are modulated somewhat by the
names, and reputation of the owners,
they are, nevertheless, curt, recerclie ,
and decisive. She is not given to any
of the prettinesses of Puseyism, reck
oning them among such vanities as
small waists and gaiter-boots ; yet she
is an uncontrollable admirer of holy
families, of which she findsfa full supply
in the newly-opened stock. She is
much more tenacious of head dress than
of foot-dress ; and though not especial
ly coy in the matter of ankles, she
studies very little the graces of a craus
sure a son pied.
The Boston lady is intellectual; and
with all her ruddiness of cheek, and ro
bustness of form, she is not a stranger
to libraries, or to lectures, and her opin
ions are far more apt to show the
aplomb of a woman, than the delicacy
of a girl. She is a lover of mystics,
and a good patroness of Boston genius.
She oceasionolly dabbles herself in the
ink, and here and there, a touchy, testy
letter in the Boston Transcript , shows
traces of feminine hand, joined to a
masculine judgment.
As her age ripens (and even Boston
fogs cannot always preserve freshness)
she may turn her faculties to the cele
bration of a stately paper, for that
SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE.
stateliest of Journals, the North Amer
ican Review. And there are those, as
1 am informed on good authority, whose
energy and literary perseverance, are
sometimes equal to a perusal of that
extraordinary Paper.
The Boston lady has friends at Cam
bridge ; either a nephew who is a rising
man in the University, or a cousin who
it making a stir in Divinity, or an un
cle who is a man of vast erudition, or
an acquaintance, or quasi lover, who is
a pattern of a scholar, ora Pindar of a
poet. She encourages the Opera, more
particularly if the piece has been ap
plauded at the Cambridge circles, and
echoed by the Transcript. Nothinginher
view, could be more exquisite than the
performance on the night of the late
high prices. Commendation was gen
eral ; and telegraphic, finger announce
ments of the price of seats, ran around
the house as so many proofs of the ge
nial and characteristic appreciation.—
The Boston lady does not afl’ect French;
or, rather, she reckons it a schoolday
accomplishment, with which she does
not often sully her lip in society. The
English lady is her pattern of breeding,
as she is her sampler of grace. Her
ideas of free dressing never go beyond
Sir Peter Lely and would stop far short
of his voluptuous beauties, were they
not hallowed by her recollections, or her
reading of Hampton Court. The lusts
of the eye, and the pride of life, are
not so much among her sins, as the suf
ficiency of the Pharisee. She is no
poor Publican, but by Heaven’s boun
ty a Bostonian. Her religion is intel
lectual to a fault, and her Christian in
genuity revels in theological conceits.
Between Messrs. Parker and Emerson,
a divinity radiates from every corner
of Boston; a mystic intelleetism per
vades their fog of belief, from which an
occasional scintillation of genius breaks
out, as a signal for a shout, and as anew
‘star in the East.’
THE CORN-LAW RHYMER.
Ebenezer Elliott not only possessed
poetical spirit, or the apparent faculty
of producing poetry, but he produced
poems beautiful in description,touching
in incident and feeling, and kindly in
sentiment, when he was kept away
from that bugbear of his imagination
a landed gentleman. A man of acres,
or any upholder of the corn-laws, was
to him what brimstone and blue flames
are to a certain species of devotee, or
the giant oppressor of enchanted inno
cence to a mad knight-errant. In a
squire or a farmer he could see no hu
manity ; the agriculturist was an incar
nate devil, bent upon raising the price
of bread, reducing wages, checking
trade, keeping the poor wretched and
dirty, and rejoicing when fever follow
ed famine, to sweep them of by thou
sands to an untimely grave. Accord
ing to his creed, there was no folly, no
fault, no idleness, no improvidence in
the poor. Their very crimes were
brought upon them by the gentry class.
The squires, assisted a little by kings,
ministers, and farmers, were the true
origin of evil in this world of Eng
land, whatever might be the cause of it
elsewhere.
The rabid feeling was opposed to high
poetical excellence. Temper and per-
uio luiai vxj ai i . ixi i tno
very torrent, tempest, and (I may say)
whirlwind of your passion, you should
acquire and beget a temperance that
may give it smoothness.” It is also
fatal to more than art: where a person
looks with the vulgar eyes that Ebene
zer Elliott used on many occasions,
there can be neither truth nor justice.
Even the satirist must observe a par
tial truth and a measure in expressing
it, or he sinks down to the virulent
lampooner.
Part of this violence must be placed
to the natural disposition of the man,
but part of it was owing to his narrow
education ; by which we mean, not so
much book-learning or reading of which
he had probably enough, but provincial
and possibly low associates. Some
thing, perhaps, should be ascribed to a
self-sufficiency rather morbid than proud,
for we think Elliott had a liking to be
“head of the company,” and that he
resented any want of “public notice as
an effront, even when the parties could
not know that he was entitled to no
tice.
These defects of character operated
very mischievously upon his works.
The temper marred his political po
ems; though the people, their condi
tion, vices, and virtues, is a theme that
properly sung, might stir the Anglo-
Saxon race throughout the world, and
give immortality to a poet. The pro
vincial mind effected the mass of El
liott’s, poems even where the subject
was removed from his prejudices; for
he had no habitual elevation or refine
ment of taste : it required a favourable
theme or a happy moment to triumph
over the deficiencies of nature and edu
cation. His self-sufficiency, coupled
with his provincialism seems to have
prevented him from closely criticising
his productions; so that he often pub
lishes things that were prosiac as well
as faulty in other respects.
The posthumous volumes before us
naturally abound in the author’s pecu
liarities ; for the feelings of survivors
are prone to err on the side of fulness,
and the friends of the lately dead too
often print indiscriminately. The con
sequence is, that the publication has an
air of gatherings, and contains a varie
ty of things that a critical stranger
w r ould wish away. It was proper, per
haps, to have given prose as a specimen
of the author; and the review of his
works by Southy, said to have been
rejected by the Quarterly , is curious
for its total disregard of the reviewer’s
own canons, since very little descrip
tion is given of the poems, and not much
of the characteristics of the poet.
Much of the poetry in these volumes
would have been better unpublished.
Here and there we find a touching lit
tle piece, or a bit of power; but the
greater part is not only nnpoetical but
trivial, or merely personal in the ex
pression of feeling. There is, moreo
ver, a savageness of tone towards the
agricultural interest, even after the corn
laws were abolished, that looks as like
malignity as honest anger. —London
Spectator.
Cement for Alahaster. —Make a
paste of white of egg and finely pow
dered quicklime ; or else take a little
newly-baked and powdered plaster of
Paris, and wet it slightly, and use im
mediately.
■♦ 4 ■>
Several bales of carpets have arrived
in London from China, being the pro
duction of that empire.
f’ljt t'orrrii HI tor.
From the American Sunday School Journal.
the cross the test.
FROM THE GERMAN.
Some with Jesus are delighted,
While he speaks of joys to come,
Thinking that to them is plighted
After death a happy home ;
But the “cross” —when he declares it,
“None but he who takes and bears it
Can my true disciples be
Few—how lew !—to this agree.
All are pleased when “come ye w r eary
They can hear the Saviour say;
But ’tis language harsh and dreary,
“Enter ye the narrow way.”
While “Hosanna L” men are singing,
All can love ; but when is ringing.
“Crucify him!”—at the sound,
Nothing more of love is found.
While his hands are food supplying,
All with joy his bounty take;
When in anguish he is lying,
None for his protection wake.
Thus may Jesus have our praises,
While our hopes and joys he raises;
But should he his favors hide,
Love to him would not abide.
Is thy joy in Christ arising
From thy love to him ahne?
In his sorrows sympathising,
Can’st thou make his griefs thine own ?
Should he cease with hope to bless thee,
Should dark fears and doub'.s distress thee,
Still confiding, could’st thou say,
“Jesus thou art all my stay 1”
In thyself, Lord, thou art worthy,
All our love is but thy due;
Saints and angels cry before thee,
“Thou art holy, just, and true !”
Whoso, on thy bright perfections
Fixes all his best affections.
Has, in loving thee, a part
That shall satisfy his heart.
Lesson for Sunday, o<tober 13.
PRAYER.
•* And all things whatsoever ye slial ask in prayer believ
ing, ye shall receive.”—Matt. xxi. 22.
Devotion forms a principal part of
experimental religion. The believer
can no more live withoit prayer, than
he can exist without brrath. It is the
soul’s converse with hei God; it is a
ladder fixed on earth, wlose top reaches
to heaven, on which petitions and bles
sings are continually ascending and de
scending ; it is sweet intense offered on
the altar of the heart, burnt with the
fire of the Spirit, and presented before
the throne above in thecenser of the in
tercession of our Grea, High Priest;
it is the native air, the avourite atmos
phere, the very element and home of
the believer.
“ What an asylum has th* soul in prayer!”
Let us observe two tlings concerning
this duty.
The matter of prater. For w T hat
are we to pray ? We are allowed to
seek temporal favours, but our princpal
solicitude should be fo* those that are
spiritual : such as
A sight of our own aepravity. With
out this, prayer canmt be rightly per
formed or enjoyed. Unless we see the
deformity of sin, we shall not breathe
after holiness.
A sense of pardoring mercy. After
the wound is opened, w r e must seek to
have it healed. When we have seen
what w r e are, we nust pray that God
would make us whit he Vould have us
to be.
Increase in spiritual attainments. —
Ambition in spiritual things is allowa
ble, anu wjviMiin..„„ a , ig enjoiueu :
“Covet earnestly the bt gifts.” We
must pray that we may in every gift
and grace, abound mor( and more.
The manner of prefer. It is to
be “ believing.” Prayjr sutfers ship
wreck for want of faith, because it
dashes on the rock of unbelief. W T e
must believe that we leed the bless
ings of salvation for out happiness, that
we cannot obtain them by our merits,
that God is willing to confer them, and
that the meditation of Christ is the on
ly channel through whch they can be
received. May ours he the prayer of
faith ! What encouragement have we
to pray ! As often as ve draw near to
the throne of grace, wt find ourselves
beside an overflowing fjuntain of good
—touching the very sjrings of eternal
mercy —in the midst of the very trea
sures of heaven.
THE GOSPEL.
This is the word pretched ; it is nei
ther spent in its descert from Heaven,
nor wasted in its transmission through
ages, —fresh and beautiful and holy as
at first; repeated even - Sabbath, read
in every Bible, —the eloquence of many
thousand pulpits, and the music of
many tongues. It is Leaven’s jubilee,
sounding in the cells ofthe great prison
house ; it is the light of eternal day
shining through its gratings. Christ
crucified is the commencement, the end
and the coronal of Christianity—a truth
that endures for ever; it is enshrined
in glory. Languages change, ceremo
nies vary, sacraments are temporary ;
Sabbaths, like little pools, w ill be swal
lowed up in the ocean of eternity ;
prayer will continue only while there
are wants, and a mystery while there
is ignorance; but around this dissolv
ing world, one thing abides—the Word
of the Lord, that endures for ever. —
\\ hatever opposes this must perish,
whatever contends against it must be
crushed. Infidelity—the word of man,
however musical in utterance, will be
hushed, —its airy frost-work, however,
glittering in the sunbeams, will be dis
solved. The gospel is divine in its birth
and eternal in its destiny. Christianity
enunciates truths that are above the
tide-mark of time, and rooted in the at
tributes of God ; it cannot be extin
guished, for God is its light; it cannot
die, for God is its life.
Scripture and the Church. —The
Scripture is the sun ; the church is the
clock, whose hand points us to, and
whose sound tells us the hours of the
day. The sun w r e know to be sure,
and regularly constant in his motion ;
the clock, as it may fall out, may go
too fast or too slow. We are wont to
look at, and listen to the clock, to know r
the time of day ; but, where we find
the variation sensible, to believe the
Sun against the clock, not the clock
against the sun. ‘ As, then, we would
condemn him of much folly, that should
profess to trust the clock rather than
the sun; so we cannot but
the miscredulity of those who will rather
trust to the church than to the Scrip
ture. —Bishop Hall.
Two things Remembered.— Rev.
Mr. Newton, when his memory was
nearly gone, used to say, that forget
what he might, he never forgot two
things,—lst, That he was a great sin
ner, —2d, That Jesus Christ w as a great
Saviour. Two most important subjects
of recollection.
dDriginnl
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
THE SONG OF THE WATERS.
BY ELLEN LLOYD.
Away, away, we dash with speed,
Down the mountain’s rugged steep,
Down,down, to the plain we roll along,
With wild impetuous sweep.
No chains confine our spirts free,
From the earth to the distant sky,
As rolling onward in our glee,
Man's power we defy.
Wild music we make as we rush along
Adown the cataract’s side,
The wild woods echo our merry song,
As onward still we glide.
When the thunder rolls through the distant
sky,—
And the dark clouds swiftly move, —
And the lightning spreads its livid glare,
Through the stormy fields above, —
Oh ! then we raise our loudest cry,
And sing our wildest song,
And dash the white foam to the sky,
As fast we rush along !
But sweeter far is our mission bright,
When through some flowery glade,
We glide in peaceful murmers on,
Cooled by the forest shade.
The sweet wild flower that o’er us bends,
With meek and gentle grace,
With dewy tears that morning wept
O’er its pale and lovely face, —
Seems grateful for our offering,
As it stands in beauty there,
And sends its fragrance far around,
Upon the morning air.
Oh in their peaceful woodland glens,
We would forever stay,
But Time, with his resistleas hand,
Still hurries us away.
North-Carolina, Sept. 14, 1850.
Ctie fesatjiat.
Forthe Southern Literary Gazette.
EGERIA:
Or, Voices from the Woods and Wayside.
THIRD SERIES.
XXIII.
Entreaty. How often do we entreat
favor which it makes us shudder to
think may be granted to our entreaties.
Politeness thus frequently sacrifices to
vulgarity, and courtesy will do the
honours, where both taste and feeling
may recoil from their object.
XXIV.
Greatness. One’s greatness does
not depend upon his position, but upon
his ability to use it fully. Yet the ape,
scrambling into the purple, will have
his worshippers It is the consolation
of humanity, in such cases, that the
God is not unworthy of the priest
hood.
XXV.
Audacity of Evil. How willful is
wlaiok ußiitQ fViO JoOf
against Love and opens it to his rival.
The affections tap modestly, as always
distrusting themselves, and fearing to
obtrude. But hypocrisy is never with
out pretension, and we too frequently
yield to audacity what is only due to
prayer. Love may be likened to the
humble mendicant, who looks his un
worthiness while he entreats your
bounty. It is passi n and selfishness
only, which assuming his name, assails
you on the highway, with his “Stand
and deliver,” claiming as his right, the
boon, which is only precious as a charity
XXVI.
Wealth. Beauty may be without a
single jewel, yet not without riehes, if
the woild will involuntarily exclaim,
how w'orthy she is to wear the bright
est. Better that men should ask why
she does not , than why she does, wear
them.
XXVII.
Wrong and Right. To stop doing
wrong is the simple process with which
to begin the work of doing right; but
vanity commonly perseveres in the path
of error, for no better reason than a re
luctance to make to others that confes
sion which it has already made to it
sejf. In the case of weak persons w r ill
be the tenacious obstinacy with which
they cling to errors, simply because
their neighbours are looking on.
XXVIII.
Amateurs. These amateurs, were
they only content with the praise with
out seeking to deserve it, might easily
secure satisfaction for all their claims,
without perilling them by unnecessary
discussion of their merit. Would they
only, like the beggar on the highway,
be satisfied to take the obolus, without
distressing the giver by their painful
stories, w'e should feel the duties of
charity less burdensome upon us and
they would retire with a less humilia
ting consciousness of the extent ol the
bounty they receive.
XXIX.
Fruit and Food. Fruits, as fruits,
are good things, —as food, evil. Be
ware of confounding the dinner with the
desert. He who makes a meal of his
pudding, will soon find his pudding
meal.
XXX.
Fortune due to Courage. Fortune is
usually most perverse, where the ad
venturer is most feeble. Will always
masters opportunity. “My son,” said
the priestess of Apollo, as Alexander
of Macedon, preparing for his expedi
tion, forced her towards the tripod,
“My son, thou art irresistible.” lie
immediately released her, assured that
no more agreeable response could is
sue from the oracle.
XXXI.
The Base. The alliances of the
base and mean are seldom oflong du
ation. Lacking principle, which is the
only seer, t of a permanent connection
of any kind, they find it more easy to
peril their profits, than to yield their
faith to one another.
(Original ißssnqs.
FICTION.
In writing, as in painting, the suc
cessful delineation of character depends
upon the adoption of the rule of Sterne.
W e must take a single individual, iso
late him measureably, and make
keep the record of his own progress
for himself. So far, all writing is dra
matic. There may and must be other
characters in the action, but it must not
depend on them for its developments.
They must be tributary altogether ; in
the back ground, without the dungeon,
peeping in upon the prisoner, bringing
him food unseen, perhaps, but not suf
fered to obtrude upon his meditations.
It is only thus that he can be persuade
to think aloud, or to set down truly
what he thinks. Too many figures, as
well in the story as in the picture, will,
if brought into the foreground, destroy
the singleness of the action—dissipate
and lessen the interest—divide the at
tention, and take from the real centre
that pure and proper individuality which
constitutes so large a part of the val
ue of every performance of an imagina
tivecharacter. There should be but one
hero to the story, to which the others
are but foils. Every step taken by
these should increasethe interest which
belongs to the central personage,—and
his fortunes, and their development,
should punish the pivot upon which
all these tributaries revolve. No step
should be taken which does not conduce
to the one action ; and their fortunes
demand no care after that is disposed
of.
MAXIMS OF ECONOMY.
Wax fat if you can, but beware hoM r
you kick like Jeshuran. Increase of
wealth requires a more than correspond
ing increase of wisdom. We are mor
tal in due degree Mith the extent of
surface M’hieh we expose to the archer.
A vast territory implies a correspond
ing difficulty of defence. Our mail
should expand Mith our bulk. He is
never so much in danger as he Mho
feels himself entirely safe ; never so
liable to overthroM r as when he has
reached the utmost heights of human
elevation. Prosperity is the close
neighbour of humility, M’hieh is never
friendly to the vastness which covers
its lowliness M ith shade. It must nev
er be forgotten that the greatness
which compels the respect of inferiori
ty, provokes its evil passions also ; and
the humbleness M'hieh env.es is near
akin lu tlic liustllifj xrrklok novor so
goes an opportunity to destroy. We
should never forget, in our power and
prosperity that no, sunshine can Mard
off’slander; noM’ealth protect against
fire ; no luxury secure health ; no au
thority bring repose. That we should
acquire poM er, is perhaps a duty ; but
to resign ourselves to its loss and pre
pare against it, is something more —it
is a virtue.
GENIUS AND ART.
How often is it that the man of ge
nius, as he improves in art, subjects his
creative attributes to its trammels.
How much of his vigour will he refine
away, in obedience to laws which, good
enough in their way, and necessary to
a certain extent, are yet adverse to the
due developement of the imagination,
w hen it fairly clothes itself in wings
It is highly important to refine, but it
is fatal to the higher works of Genius*
to refuse to give way to thought, in
obedience to Art. To arrest the flight
of the Eagle to the eminence, when
the first impetus to flight is fully given,
is to make him settle down like a com
mon bustard, on the tottering summits
of an ant hill.
di>nr i'cttrrs.
Correspondence of the Southern Literary Gazette.
NEW YORK, Oct. 5, 1850.
Avery pleasant addition to the kill
times of our city, is the new Athe
neum, which has been thrown open for
visitors during the past week, and which
will commence its regular operations,
as a place of public amusement, on
Monday next. This establishment,
undertaken by private enterprise, has
been, for some months, in preparation,
and is now completed in a style of lux
ury and splendour to gratify the taste
of the most inveterate literary Syba
rite. It occupies the lower floor of the
building used for the exhibition of the
National Academy of Design, near the
Bond-street House, in Broadway. The
principal appartment, which is to be
employed as a Reading Room, is fur
nished with a tempting variety of
desks, arm-chairs, and elegant sofas,
and decorated with beautiful designs.
This is to contain newspapers, journals,
and magazines of every description,
presenting an inexhaustible abundance
of periodical literature, in various lan
guages, and enabling the most lethar
gic to get easilly posted up on the cur
rent topics of the day. Connected
with the reading-room is a chess room,
fitted up like an Oriental tent, with all
the apparatus of the game, and an
apartment, devoted to conversation,
where the amateurs of the fragrant
w r eed may also have the opportunity
to indulge their tastes without offence.
The institution bids fair to be highly
popular, it is patronized by our first
families, and will, no doubt, prove a
fashionable lounge of the most attract
ive character. This is afforded for the
sum of sl2 as the annual subscription,
with the privilege of introducing stran
gers, ad libitum, for two weeks at a
time.
The Annual Fair of the Amer
ican Institute is now open at Castle
Garden, and attracts a large number of
visitors. There is no end to the speci
mens of Yankee Jim-cracks, which are
here crowded together in bewildering
variety.
It was announced last week, that Lit
tlefield, the notorious Janitor of the
Massachusetts Medical College, would
be present at an exhibition of the Wax
Figures of Dr. Park man and Prof.
Webster, and enlighten the audience
with commentaries on the scene. It
appears that tempting offers had been
made to Littlefield, in order to secure
his interests in such an exhibition,
which it was proposed to hold in the
principal cities of the United States.
The announcement produced a feeling
of universal disgust. The horror
called forth by such a wanton outrage
upon the surviving friends of the de
ceased, was more than sufficient to
quench any curiosity that might have
been awakened by the announcement.
A few persons only, I am told, were
collected on the evening of the exhibi
tion, and they expressed themselves in
terms of such indignant condemnation,
that the experiment was not repeated.
Littlefield, 1 perceive, now comes out
with a card in the Boston papers, dis-
connexion with the enter
prise, and expressing the deepest regret
that he had ever lent it his countenance.
I have no doubt that he is sorry enough
to lose the chance of feathering his nest,
by such an attrocious exhibition; and
I have as little doubt that he would
have delighted to make himself con
spicuous, in connexion with the awful
tragedy, if public opinion had permit
ted the accomplishment of the plan.
The Society formed last May, called
the American Bible Union, for the pur
pose of circulating a revised edition of
the Scriptures, held its first annual
meeting this week. It is under the
management of the Rev. Dr. Cone,
Mr. Wykoff, and others, who took an
active part in the controversy with the
original Society. The meeting excited
a good deal of interest, on account of
the peculiar circumstances, in which
the Society was formed, and was made
the occasion of several eloquent speech
es. One of the most able was by Pro
fessor Eaton, of Madison College, who
spoke in a forcible, argumentative man
ner, of the importance of preserving
the word of God pure from all human
adulterations, which, he contended,
were Introduced by the errors of the
existing version. But the speaker who
attracted the most notice, was the cele
brated Alexander Campbell, of Tennes
see. His reputation as an heresiarch
led many to regard his appearance on
that platform with no little surprise.
New movements, however, develope
new affinities, and in these days of fer
mentation and unrest, I know not why
we should be astonished at any strange
combination, whether in religion or
politics. Mr. Campbell’s address,
which was very long, Mas not precisely
of the style to interest a NeM*-York au
dience, and I fear the reverend orator
M r asted his amunition.
Avery pretty quarrel between the
Massachusetts representative, Horace
Mann, and Professor Felton, of Har
vard College, is brought again on the
carpet, and produces much amusement.
The Professor hits the Congressman
right and left, in a way which will
make the latter gentleman cautious how
he ventures on a question of “word
catching,” without some better qualifi
cation therefor than universal philan
thropy. Among other charges against
Mr. Felton, is that of having been
moved ir- the controversy by a spirit
of political partisanship, which the fa
cetious Professor thus summarily dis
poses of.
“ I do not confess the soft impeach
ment. The accusation weighs upon
my mind, and I desire to make a clean
breast of such perilous stuff. The near
est I ever came to entering the politi
cal arena was a good many years ago
during the early epoch of the Clay and
Jackson days. For some incompre
hensible reason, I received the unsolici
ted honour of being chosen as a dele
gate to the young men’s national con
vention, to nominate a candidate for
President of the United State. I told
the committee who politely informed
me of the appointment that I was duly
sensible of the honour (this I believe is
the customary phrase) and that I would
accept it on one condition, namely, that
the several candidates should be brought
before the convention and I should be
permitted to examine them in the
Greek Grammer. My proposition did
not secure the assent of the young pol
iticians, and the consequence was that
I plunged again—to imitate Mr. Mann’s
grandiloquent style—into the ‘classic
shades,’ where I have ever since quietly
remained. This was the closest con
tact I ever had with public life. This
is the only event in my uneventful ca
reer that gives the slightest ground to
the charge of ‘entering the political
arena as a partizan combatant,’ and
how’ Mr. Mann got hold of it I cannot
imagine.”
The musical prospects of the winter
are growing decidedly rose coloured, as
you will be glad to hear, leaving both
Jenny Lind and Madam Bishop out of
the account. The arrangements effec
ted by Maretzek, are said to be very
complete, and will be sure to afford the
utmost satisfaction. Such a musical
force has never been collected to de
light the ears of a New York house.
Parodi, Truffi, Bertucca, Primi ]j,,
ni; Patti and Perrini, Contralti • n .
, ’ . 11 > t>eni.
detti, borti, and Lonni, Tenori • \,
velli, Beneventano, and Rossi,
and Sanquirico, Buffo; with an Orches!
tra of forty performers, and a chon <
of thirty-six, will open the campai h’
with a brilliancy, surpassing all op,-^
tic recollections in this city. Th. I
let company, which has been perform
ing for a M eek or two past, will take
part in the Operas, where their p er .
formances are admissable. The
son will open on next Monday W e,
with the Opera of Der Freyschiitz
The principal theatrical event of th,
week, is the production of the original
tragedy, by Mr. L. C. Pray, at the As
tor Place, in which the leading part
was performed by Mr. Buchanan. The
play entitled Poetus Coecinna, is writ
ten on a classical model, and as a lite
rary composition, possesses very con
siderable merit. Its interest, however
is too remote for dramatic effect in
these high-pressure days, and it will
probably be found to be less adapted to
the stage than to the closet.
Murdoch made a decided hit, last
night, as Claude Melnotte, on the ooca.
sion of his benefit, at the Bowery. 11,
is rapidly winning golden opinions.
T.
ftlisrtllnntj.
A NEW YORK NEWSPAPER.
The Tribune gives an interesting ac
count of its ow'n history. It is now in
the tenth year of its existence. It gives
regular employment to twelve editors
and reporters, thirty-seven printers, two
proof readers, thirteen pressmen, engi
neers and other labourers in the press
room, four permanent correspondents
in Europe, three regular correspondents
at Washington, two in Canada, two in
California, one in Mexico, one in I| a .
vana, one in Central America, &c.,&c..
four wrapper-writers, four clerks, six
teen hands in the mailing department,
three errand boys, twenty-eight carri
ers in the city and vicinity, in all. above
130 persons steadily engaged in the
establishment. The issue of the Tri
bune is, in round numbers, 18.600 Dai
ly, 41,400 Weekly, 17,000 Semi-Week
ly, 3,300 for California, 500 for Europe.
Mr. Horace Greely is the “Responsi
ble Editor” of the Tribune. At the
heads of various editorial departments
are Mr. C. A. Dana, Mr. J. F. Cleve
land, Mr. G. M. Snow, Mr. Geo. Rip.
ley, Mr. Bayard Taylor, Mr. W. New
man. At the head of the Publishing
and Financial Departments, is Mr.l
McElrath, the original and prinep I
partner of Mr. Greely. “Asa prop !
ty, the establishment is held in Oi l
Hundred shares, of which the larg
number are owned by Messrs. Greek
&McElrath, the original proprietor
while the residue are owned by five
Assistant Editors, and five other As
sistants longest connected with and
most responsibly employed in the sev
eral depart ments of Printing and Pub
lishing. It is intended that in time the
number of shareholders shall be in
creased, but that the whole shall con
tinue to be persons employed upon a: :
useful to the paper. But, while any
one may be discharged by a gene!
vote of his associates, his right of
property in the concern and his equal
interest in any dividends which may
be made would remain unaffected,-
Each person employed on the paper,
whether shareholder or not, is paid a
stated salary for his services, which is
fixed and can only be increased or di
minished by a vote of the stockholders
in general meeting. Compositors (typ
setters) form an exception ; theirs is
piece-work.”
The Largest Grape-vine ix ■
United States. —Under this head
Natchez Free Trader of the 10th imfl
has the following paragraph :
Mr. William Casey, corner of Li. 1
and State streets, in the city of Nat I
ez, can boast of a grape vine which*
undoubtedly, the monarch vine of 1
United States. It rises from the gr<®
in a single trunk of some three in<®
in diameter, nearly straight, and
proportioned, to the height of ah®
nine feet, when it spreads into Inane*
and covers and embowers the tril
work of quite a large garden, be>i*
climbing a tall tree. The weight ot-1
immense clusters of grapes hang®
upon it, now about half grown, is®
mated at a ton. To stretch out any*
the branches in a direct line, they well
measure from three to four hunJrtl
feet. The description of the grape
not natural to the country, hut®
brought to Natchez in the old Spat l '®
times, it is called the “Jack orap®
from “ Spanish Jack,” the nickname
the Spaniard who planted it. SuI: l
years ago, Madame Bingaman. I
dead, offered Mr. Casey five hum!*
dollars if he would remove the
safely to her garden, in the environ®
the city; but no sum of money “ ! ®
ever, would induce the owner top®
with it. It produces a wine which®
the taste of Hock.
New Daguerreotype Disco' e *J
The Boston Transcript is respoi> j
for the announcement that Mr. If “I
a daguerreotypist of that city,
covered a process by which an or j
ry sized daguerreotype miniature y j
magnified to life size, or larger •
cessary, and thrown upon a
any flat substance, retaining at tin
time all the clearness and detail 1 H
daguerreotype, so that an art it *
sit himself before this magnified®
flection, and render it a perfect ‘’’i®
light and shade, as well as outl- ■
the original. This discovery “ l! ■
itate the work of the portrait |- ®
and save a large amount ot tim ,
sumed in sitting.
Submarine Telegraph. 1 fl ’ E
marine Telegraph between . ■
Dover has been completed an _ ■
well. Messages have been ?tl JB
wards and forwards with g reat 311
and despatch.
M. de Lamartine is . about ■
London, in order to raise M
purchase implements to . V,.
territory in Asia Minor, wine l
conferred on him by the Suita*
- ~ *’* . TJ3C;** 1 * I
Apprehensions exist at 1 1 ■
another invasion from this co