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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