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sought her pencil, and she scribbled on the b.. k of one of our school-mate’s letters, a continuation, or rather rever sion of the same piece. It ran thus: — A dreamer dropped a random thought, ’ Twas pretty but untrue ; A passing fancy of the brain, Which charmed because ’twas new, It tell upon unguarded ground, Alas ! it there became A rooted error deep and strong, An ever spreading bane. The thought ‘twassmall,its issue great. A plant of pois’nous breath, Its seeds are walled tar and near, might almost have fancied, that an an- | gel s soul had accused her of sin.— My father looked ii[> for a moment at j her, the next, she was out of the room, j u W I none followed her. (Continue- , al , wpe ( t , ttvltrwTutyy ill till’ itllirlinj. Pteparwl for the Southern I.iterary Guiette. MAEKED PASSAGES. AFFECTION OF BIRDS. At Springrnount, near Clough, a male bean goose, slightly wounded in ment were bis eries that even the up lifted hand of the murderess was stay ed. and some members of the family, w ith others of the household, hurrying to the scene of uproar, the cause of the bird’s anxiety was discovered, and the intended victim set at liberty. This was told to me in January, IbUS, and no further attempts have since been made on the fair one’s life, lit .Novem ber, 1848, they were removed to a new residence, w here they continue ap parently as happy as geese can be.— For several successive years after this pair became associated, the goose laid a full compliment of eggs, and sat on them even bey■ id the usual time, the to tile offender, struck him with his w;> - 1 -’- ’- 11 - -u*-, ring the last summer (1849) the goose ; had laid a few eggs, but was too much j disturbed by dogs to incubate them J long. To the calls of his wild breth- | ron passing over head the gander ha- \ bitually replied, and, in one instance, i it was feared he had bid adieu to the ; place, as be took wing and joined a j flock high ill the air; but,after holding j a little converse with them, he return- j od like a true lover to his male. This gander, perhaps iu right ot a higher de scent than his associates who merely “walk the earth,” at once, when put xoh Xu turn l His tory of Irela nJ. MAN AVITHOI WARNESTHE3S. A man without earnestness is a mournful and perplexing spectacle.— | lut it i* ii consolation to believe, as we must of any such ati one, that he is in the most effectual and compulsive oi all schools ; not only with the sad sub-1 Jimity ot the stars above him, and the haggard vet ever teaming earth be neatb bis feet, graves, bouses, and tem ples around him, and the voices of ha tied and pain,love and devotion,sound in” in his ears, but also with a heart, however weak and dull, essentially ca- mysterious power to and him too 013. [ Stirling. HOW THE RIVER HAN. “He tried to think, hut the river would not let him. It thundered and spouted out behind him from the hatches, and leapt madly past him, and caught his eyes in spite of him, and sweot them away down its dancing waves, and then let them go again only to sweep them down again and again, till his brain felt, a delicious dizziness front the everlasting rush and the ever lasting roar. And then below, how it spread, and writhed, and whirled into \ in one broad rippling sheet of molten ! silver; towards the distant sea. Down ward it fleeted ever, and bore his thougnts floating on its oily stream; and the great trout, with their yellow sides and peacock backs, lunged among the silver grayling dimpled and wan dered upon the shallows, and the may flies flickered and rustled round him | like water fairies,with their green gauzy wings; the coot clanked musically i among the reeds; the frogs hummed I their ceaseless vesper-monotone; the king fisher darted from his hole in the bank like a blue spark of electric light; the swallows’ bills snapped as they twined and haw ked above the pool; the swifts’ wings w hirred like musket balls as they rushed screaming past his head; and ever the river fleeted by, bearing his eyes away down the cur rent, till its w ild eddies began to glow with crimson beneath the setting sun. The complex harmony of sight and sounds slid softly over his soul, and he ! sank away into a still day-dream, too passive for imagination, too deep for meditation, and Beauty born of murmuring sound, Did pass into his face. Blame him not. There are more things in a man’s heart, than ever get in through his thoughts.”— Yeast. DO NOT OO TO TAKTAKV. The general scope of your letter af- W Mi 1 ?’. b : a pie. I’or Gods sake, don’t think any more of “Independent Tartary.” What are you to do among such Ethiopians? Is there no lineal descendant of Pres tor John ? Is the chair empty ? Is the sword unswayed ? Depend * upon it, they’ll never make you their king as long as any branch of that great stock j is remaining, i tremble for your Chris ■ tianity. They will certainly circurn -1 eise you. Head Sir John Mandeville’s I travels to cure you, or come over to England. There is a Tartar man now exhibiting at Exeter Change. Come and talk with him, and hear what he says first. Indeed, he is no very fa | vourable specimen of his countrymen! But, perhaps, the best thing you cau | do is to try to get the idea out of your j head. For this purpose, repeat to your ; self every night, after you have” said ! your prayers, the words, “lndependant | 1 artary,” two or three times, and asso ! date w ith them the idea of oblivion \ | (’tis Hartley’s method w ith obstinate memories,) or say, “Independent, In- j dependent, have I not already got an 1 independence ?” That was a clever! w ay of the old puritan’s pure divinity. | My dear friend, think w hat a sad pity it would be to bury such parts in j heathen countries, among nasty, uncon- I versable, liorse-belching, Tartar peo i pie! Some say they are cannibals; j and then conceive a Tartar fellow eat i ing my friend, and adding the cool nia j liynity of mustard and vinegar! [ Charles Lamb's Letters. Or tluirlO /air. TV PE COMPOSING AND DISTRIBUTING MA- j CHINE. Fancy a round birJ cage made with just 120 square wires, the spaces be- j tween the wires corresponding to the j 120 different pieces in a single lbnt of type, upper and IqWfyp Now j J y ll ‘V ” \r~ r ’' c ‘ L - ■ o-kbvaWi; ; from the top to the liol% ni and the j : upper part of the cage made to turn j around on it j centre, notch by notch, just the distance that the wires are i apart. Now take oil’ the top halt and slide, in the spaces between the w ires, 1 lines of type which you wish distribu ted. The type must have nicks on side corresponding to the wires, and the spaces and quadrats be all turned right side up, so that the line ot type will be held in place by the wires.— Now fancy that each space in the low er part of the cage has a set of projec tions peculiar to itself, and fitted just i to the point where the wires were sev ered, and fancy also, that each ditler ent letter, space or point in the type, tor distribution, lias its peculiar set of nitche.s or indentations, adapted to one particular space in the lower halt of the cage and to no other. Now replace the upper half of the cage with the type in it ready for distribution, and by means of a treadle move it round notch bv nptch. As each type conies over its appropriate space in the low er half of the cage it w ill fall into it. It cannot fall where it does not belong, because its nicks do not correspond to the projections which guard the other spaces. When you have distributed a fair quantity of type you can commence composition. This is effected by touch ing keys, similar to those on a piano. The lower half of the case is stationary, and the lower spaces between the wires being closed by moveable pieces acted on by the keys, a single letter at a time is thus let fall into a slide and car ried down into line, types are then set up in one long line, and by constantly moving the treadle the dis tribution is carried forward at the same time as the composition. The objection to this wonderful in vention is palpable. The time neces sary to justify the type, together with the time occupied iu “playing upon the piano,” leaves little or no gain. A smart compositor would readily dis tribute his type in case while he would he [Hitting the lines of type in the pro proper spaces. But it these difficul ties w ere overcome, the confusion in the type foundry from having one hun dred and twenty different sets of nicks in the types would be limitless —and the expense almost endless. [Cor. Sew York Sun. THE YANKEES. The correspondent of the New York Sun , writing from London, says:— Quite a rich scene took place last week at the ’“ Fair .” The Queen gave out cm Friday she would visit the Fair the next morning at If o’clock, attend ed by her ladies and gentlemen in waiting, to personal/!/ inspect each de partment, to receive information from those severally in charge; consequent ly, there was quite a gathering from the West end, of nobles and citizens. After a time, the Queen arrived at the beautiful fancy soap stand from Phila delphia, at each great corner of w hich, stand in bold relief, the busts of “Washington and Taylor,” with an in scription on the head of each, viz., “ This is all solid soap.” The Queen k m m f a A H ■ iljflhc ■ W r A ■ ■ ■ W f k ■ H ■ ■list- | ■ w w k ■ ■ ■ v w k E ■ Hinged H W W I SOUT HE R N L 1 T f/R ARY G A Z*E TT E. seemed to doubt the fact, as a vankee catch, and suddenly taking a gold pin fr : om her dress, was about testing the fact, by running the pin into the head of Washington, when the Philadel phian, seeing her object, placed his hand between the pin and bust, and w ith gravity and polite bend of his bo dy, observed—“lt is the bust of Gen eral Washington, your majesty”— quick as thought, Prince Albert said, w ith one of his usual winning smiles, to the interested queen, “7/ was only royalty picking at the brain of liberty.” The next morning an order came from Buckingham Palace for a box of the Philadelphia fancy soap. Another scene equally as rich hap pened that morning. After the Queen and Court had examined the great va riety of American grain, and expres sed her surprise at the corn hanging in clusters from the stalks, the Prince re marked : “America is indeed a second Egypt; the land of promise, that could supply the world with bread.” Near the stalk of grain, a Yankee from Connecticut had pitched his stand, ex hibiting baskets and boxes of [latent boot and shoe pegs, appearing at a lit tle distance very much like grain. On passing, the Queen enquired w hat kind of seed it was. “Seed, inarm ; why they are sole binders ,” at the same time lifting his foot to show their use. The Queen kept her gravity as well as she could, but the Prince turned to give vt-i tup a smjlr ’! -"W~ the Duchess ot S., with the other la dies in waiting, dropped their veils and placed their handkerchiefs to cover their faces. The Prince asked how they were made. “Why, sir,” an swered Jonathan, “we just throw junks of wood at one end. and the pegs come out at the other so last, as to keep the women folks busy enough. “Ah, sir,” continued Jonathan, Connecticut is quite a smart place for all such no tions.” A GRAND PIANO. One of Erard’s Piano’s, in the Crys tal Palace, is thus described: The case is composed of tulip-wood, divided in to panneis, formed by inlaid silver bauds, relieved by others of ebony ; the inlaid ornaments are of silver and tortoise-shell, beautifully designed and > richly engraved. The mouldings round : the panels and medallions are of cast | ormulu, both dead and burnished, and | give the whole a rich but by no means a gaudy appearance. The supports I are particularly graceful, after the fash i ion of caryatides; but in this instance | the upper portion is semi-cupid of gold, instead of the usual temal form; they ! are beautifully designed by Cavelier, a French artist. It is said that the case, from first to last, occupied nearly a year in making; this may be account ed for by the minuteness of the thou sands of pieces of wood necessary to be so accurately joined that the deli cate grain of the tuiipwood should run with the greatest regularity over every part of the instrument. The hinges are very peculiar, constructed in such a manner that, when the instru ! ment is closed, no portion of them is I seen from without. The extent of the instrument is seven octaves, beginning upon A in the third ledger line in al tissimo. It is extraordinary that in so great an extent such perfect equali ty of tone should be preserved. The upper notes are clear in the extreme ; rtlie tenor portion rich and hfilliant; w hile the bass possesses great power and body of tone. It is said that the cost of this beautiful instrument has been to M. Erard nut much short of £BOOO. TIIE TIME REQUIRED TO SEE THE EXHIBI TION. Has the reader ever speculated on the extent of travelling there will be within the building before the entire Exhibition can be seen ! We have heard it estimated at thirty miles, and we are convinced that the minimum must be twenty miles. Yes: follow ing all the many passages, winding about the galleries, and seeing every thing, will necessitate the perambula tion of at least twenty miles. Think of that, all ye who purpose “running up to London for a day” to see the Exhibition. It cannot be done, for physical reasons; and it cannot be done with any good, if the physical reasons were not, from other causes which originate in the very nature of the human intellect. Our appetite for admiration, for wonder, is as much lim ited as our appetite for food ; and, as with food, the richer and more luscious it is, the sooner it palls upon the pal ate, so the more w orthy of admiration an object is, the sooner it exhausts our admiring faculty. After an hour or two at sight-seeing, the eye becomes weary ; it does not report any faithful image of the thing seen to the mind ; and what it dees report, the mind can not understand. Bodily lassitude en sues, and the rest of the spectacle, be it what it may, is hurried over with no advantage to the beholder—with no justice to the producer of the sight to be examined. Hence, let no one ima gine that the Great Exhibition can be hastily seen. No one can see it tho roughly in less than a week ; and many weeks would be required to understand and to appreciate all the wonders that will be there exposed. [Leigh Hunt's Journal. ICE PRODUCED BY STEAM POWER. Mr. Thomas Masters, of the Royal Polytechnic Institution, Regent-street London, the inventor of various inge nious machines for freezing, has an ap paratus at the Exhibition capable of freezing upwards of 100 quarts of de sert ices (six different sorts are produ ced in the one machine) every fifteen or sixteen minutes, of a perfect smooth quality. The machines arc also made to produce cylinders of solid ice, suffi ciently large to hold decanters of wa ter and many bottles of wine. These cylinders are made in the form of cas tellated towers, and have a very novel appearance. The converting steam or vapor into snow may also be effected by this machine ; and in this way a whole room may be easily cooled down in the hottest weather. The patentee’s smaller machines, of which there are several exhibited iu class 22, are cal culated for use in a small family or bachelor’s chambers. The cost of turn ing pure water into ice for slierrv coll ier, cooling wine, and other purposes, is said to be less than what it can be purchased for at the ice stores. (Original S Forth* Southern Literary Gazette. HORACE IN DESHABILLE. @ TO MY LYRE. > W Supposed to be by Morris or Will is, the Cautor and £oj lux of American Minstrelsy and Magazines. V Ode zxxii. If in the shade, in other hours, Dear Lyre, in deathless vers we’ve sunjC A harder duty now is ours To carol in the Yankee In Grecian strains we’ve sung of yofc^ By Lesbian Alcceus taught—the brave, Who, whether he sought the steadfast shot, jO. Or rock’d in tempest o’er the wave, To Bacchus still attuned his lyre, \ The muses sought with deathless strait# Or for the Queen of young Desire, * And Lowell, ever in her train, (Boy with the coal black eyes of lire,) Jf Idtill sang, nor often sang in vain. Lyre, that Apollo loved so well, m, Best charm at Jove’s own banquets,—be But pliant now to Yankee spell, M And yield the power of Song to me. 1 Original tfenqj. \ For the Southern Literary Gazette. ¥ FRAGMENT 9 FROM THIS UNPUBLISHED BOOK ENTITLED 1> O U TIP OS. f BY A VINT A. 17 'he Chapter worn Book IV call^ CRYPTODYSXYNETOAIYSTIA * . TN-jrjoifA. * Hurrah! Jf Fools are always as wise as owns, but the wise man knows when to play the buffoon timely. Crick—crack—jaw ! And what in the name of thunder and tooth-ache, is the utility, the meaning, the use, the object, the signification, the intention, the value, the sense, the notion, the conception, the idea, the design, the exponent, the etymology, the lexico graphy, the composition, the resolu tion, in short, the interpretation, of the heading of this chapter? Deep was the mystery of Pythago ras’ beans, profound was the significa tion of the EJusinian Mysteries, sig nificant were the rites of Isis and Osi ris—but only revealed to the approved, the worthy, the well-tried initiated.— The whole of this chapter’s mellifluous, glorious, high-sounding- diflicult-to-be properly-pronounced, initiative com pound, can be easily and directly de livered, elucidated, and expounded, by a single, simple, obvious, and very dif ficult word. What is it? It contains tlie whole mystery of the book. It is the very inmost key of Poutipbs. It at once reveals the w hole intent of the production, and gives the clew tc/every preceding and succeeding Books Chap ter, Section, Allegory, and Fable. It is, therefore, not to be lightly pro nounced, not to be irreverently uttered, not to be rashly disclosed. It is the most important, significant, weighty, pregnant, explanatory, lucid, momen tous word in the entire circuit, com pass, and precinct of the work. Apt I therefore, with the greatest ® ty, . Im— . J • !, and caution, we shall proceed to utter and disclose it—not at the present mo ment. §§ 2,4, 5, etc. You remember dis tinctly where we left off in the last chapter of the last book? Well—l have no recollection of it myself.— However, Eeclesia’s essence-bottle was evidently lost, and she would be sub ject to catalepsy so long as it was not found. Poor thing! How her nose longed, thirsted, hungered, pined, de siderated, craved, tingled, titillated, to its very inmost olfactory penetralia for one sound, wholesome, refreshing, reviving, odoriferous, genuine, sweet smell of the lost bottle! She hunted for it in J udea, in Antioch, in Ephesus, i in Persia,in Corinth, in Judea, in Abys-j sinia, in Alexandria, in Milan, in By- 1 zantium, in Rome, —but it was not to be found. She strictly interrogated Hernias, and Hymenseus, and Hermo genes, and Phygellus, and Cerinthus, and Dositheus, and Simon Magus, and Ammonius Saceas, and Panttenus, and Elxai, and Cerdo, and Marcion, and Bardesanes, and Tatian, and Valenti nus, and Basilides, and Praxeas, and Artemas, and Montamis, and Adel i phius, and Aquilinus, and Manes, and : Ilierax, and Ntetus, and Sabellius, : and Beryl!us, and Paul of Samosata, and Novatian, and the Fathers, and the Heretics, and the Schismatics, and the Philosophers, and all the Doc tors, and all the Fools, and all the Monks, and all the Nuns, and all the Popes, and all the Priests, and all the Laity, mid all the Saints, and all the Sinners—but the boscHe was not to be found. At last, Ecelesia had such a severe cataleptic fit, that it was thought she never would revive again. And there we leave her in the hands of the Doc tors, while they are putting to her nose, and fomenting her, and plaister ing her with, their diverse and sundri drugs and medicaments, of Nominalis \ apor, and Realis Quintessentia, and Entis Tinctura, and Universals a parte rei, and Universals a parte intellectks, and I Lecce ity Drops, and so forth. But meanwhile Scaramouch took! himself off and applied to all sorts ot Divination for the purpose of discov ering where the last bottle was lying. He tried -Eromaney, or divination by ! the air; Alectryomancy, or divination by a fowl-cock; Aleuromancy, or di vination by flour; Alomancy, or divi nation by salt; Anemoscopy, or in-, spection of the winds ; Anthracoman- j cy, or divination by charcoal; Arith-1 momancy, or divination by numbers ; Astromaney, or divination by the stars. He divined according to Bactroniancy, or by a rod; Bostrychomancy, or by j the hair; Botauoinancy, or by plants; Brizonaancy, or by nodding sleep; Capnomancy, or by smoke; Catoptro maucy, or by mirrors; Cephaleono mancy, or Jj’ the head of an ass turned around; Chartomancy, or by cards; Cleidomancy or by keys; Cleromancy, by lot and dice; Cymomancy, by beans. lie tried the divination of Dactyliomaney, by rings; of Daph nornancy, by burning laurel-leaves; of Extispiciny, by inspecting the entrails of victims; of Geloscopy, by laugh ter ; of Geomancy, l>y the earth; of Geoty, by sorcery ; of Gynecomancy, by women; of H;emomancy, by blood; of Iloroseopy, by calculation of nativ ities; of Ilydromancy, by water; of Icthyomancy, by fish; of lveraunos copy, by thunder; ofLampadomancy, by lamps; of Libanomancy, by in cencc smoke; of Lithomaney, by stones. lie divined by Metoposcopy, the lines in the forehead ; by Myo mancy. rats; by Necromoncy, evoca tion of the dead, by Nepheleraancy, the clouds; by Oinomancy, wine; by Oneirocracy, dreams; by Oomancy, j eggs; by Ophiomancy, serpents; by | Oplithalmoß-copy, eyes ; by Ornithas ■ coov J-o-ls- bv Parthenotriancy, vir ; by children ; Pelotnancy, mud; by Pinacomancy, tablets; by Psychomancy, evocation of^souls; by Ptarmos-copy, sneezing; by Pyromancy, lire. lie divined moreover by Rhapsodomancy, verses of poets ; by Skiamancy, shadows; by Spodomaucy, cinders; by Sticomancy, verses of Sybils; by Stoicomaney, the elements; by Sycomancy, figs; by Tevatos-copy, prodigies ; by Tetrapod otnancy, quadrupeds; by Theolepsy, exstacy; by Theurgy, celestial spirits; by Tyromancy, cheese; by Uranosco py,theheavens; by Xylomancy.wood ; by Ylomancy, forests; by Zooman cy, living things. And thus, having gone through the alphabet ot Divina tion, without discovering where the smelling-bottle was, he cut three thou sand three hundred and three and a third capers, turned ninety-nine thou sand, nine hundred and nine summer sets, pulled his left ear three several times, until it was elongated to the extent of several hundred cubits, tweaked his nose until it was as sharp as a needle forty hundred leagues long, anigiving a great cry of hullaballi boShoohooyoosee, he went to sleep. p-it the poor child did not enjoy his slumber long, for he had hardly com menced to snore like forty thousand fulling mills, when part ot the extreme 1 tailfof a Dream brushed over his nose, and before he had time to go back and dream the beginning, in order to uu- i derstaud this rude and sudden tail, the | Dream vanished with ahull, without even showing the end of its tail to Scaramouch, and launching into the ~the Future, it left’ poor Scaramouch sitting bolt upright, ! ! with his eyes so widely opened from j sudden astonishment, that it required j all the effort of five score of the strong | est men of the court to close them i again to any thing like a moderate do ; gree of openness. All of the Dream’s ; tail that he got a glimpse of was — “Bugaboosmashed; Deisidaimon strip ped, crest-fallen, chained, Squaddies abolished, Doeumentum in the scales; Pistis tri—;” but whether tried, tri ; fled with, tripped up, tricked, trimmed, trinerved, trippled, triparted, or trium phant,was more than Scaramouch could conjecture. But the propnetic vision j of that old scamp Deisidaimon being j put down —of the humbugology of the j Squaddies being abolished, and every : true man, therefore, being his own ! Squaddy—was so refreshing and ex hilerating to the heart of Scaramouch, that he felt a comfortable and genial I warmth in his inwards, which incited him to proclaim his satisfaction in sun dry voices and utterances. lie cried in Hebrew, Anochi hanna bi cither itto ‘hulum —l am the prophet with whom is a dream ! He added in Arabic, Ma ya'lamu taweelahu —no one know's its interpre tation ! lie added, moreover, in Syriac, Shma'u mis/una ’ v'lo thesthchalun va c'hru mickzo’ v'lo thed'un —even if you hear it you will not understand it, and even if you see it you will not know it! He cried in Chaldee, ‘Helniaya basi mirt yattirmin dubvsha— dreams sweet er than honey ! And he added in Persian, Djan asa, rahet amiz , summa gudaz, dil kitsha , er kiigia teshrif awurdid—Giving-rest-to the-soul, bringing-quiet, driviug-away misfortune, exhilerating-tke-heart,— whence have you come ? He cried in Armenian, Usd amenain desleanus aisorii, vetzitzus anoosham dooteampsharjim—According to all this vision, six times over am 1 moved with gaiety! lie cried in Turkish, Yu giizel oui kou ki bana eriitt bir yiizel iimud getir di—Oh! beautiful sleep that brought me such a beautiful hope! He added in Sanscrit, Savinrasotu bhavirama/u —May the pleasure never end ! He cried in Coptic, Parmeholj —day of the announcement of good! and, also, Marenhos —we will sing! For lie added in Greek, Oudeis pa pole town tun ton oneiron eide —no one ever saw such a dream ! He remarked in Chinese, Ytsinpou yen —ideas exhaust not words ! adding immediately in Zend, aetahmi anhvv yat as'lvainti, in this existing world, indeed ! Having thus expressed himself in the more learned tongues, he proceed ed to utter his satisfaction, his thoughts, and his feelings in the more usual dia lects. He expressed himself in Mi.nt chou, in Japanese, in the Kawi tongue of Java, in Tungoosee, in Thibetian, in Circassian, in Georgian, in Tigre, in Amharic, in Sclavonic, in Albanian, in Basque, in Romaic, in Tamul, in /Ethi opic, in Pali, in Gothic, and a variety of other tongues. After uttering him self in seventy languages and ninety two dialects, he felt so comfortable that he incontinently made a sneeze. But he had better have let it alone. It was not a common sneeze; it was a sneeze of remarkable power and sin gular emphasis. It was, in short, a sneeze of such prime quality, that it instantly set all the jackasses in the royal stables braying, which patting the air in motion, set all the bells a ringing, which produced such a concus sion of the atmosphere, that fifty stee ples uni thirty-five towers fell down, i w inch produced such a fright in the I royal kitchen, that seventeen thousand pancakes just cooking tor the king’s lunch. w'ere (nearly spoilt.-f- Thereupon Dominie, chief butcher and master of the blood-hounds, sallied forth to chastise the offender. But j Scaramouch perceiving what was in the | wind, by a certain odour as ur.like j musk and roses as possible, which Do- ( ! minie always exhaled when lie was ex- i cited and bent on mischief- —took a | running start of nine hundred and a half leagues, and with the impetus j thereby acquired, jumped right into ! the Moon,and lit plump in the middle of what shall be related hereaf ter. g. 3. Here is the proper place to in- : trodues the word which explains the j caption of this chapter, and gives the key to those who understand rids book. Api<rTo<pavtpa(it\aioTti)vooovupTCTotTtf)o'\oyy. r im in imi i iiuiii iaini i mui ii— mi■—u— ,fur rig tt Currrspiiiirnrr. LETTERS FROM “THE OLD WORLD.” [bv a special correspondent.] NO. 1. Brussels, July 6, 1851. Meters. Editors: You will, 1 fear, think me presumptuous in attempting to picture scenes that have been so of* cu skillfully drawn. But 1 have your own pressing request to plead by j way of apology to your readers, and 1 [ am not unaware of the advantages | which J, at least, shall reap from ac- | \ ceding to your wishes, since I shall be | compelled to be ever on the alert ,in | order to observe and obtain that which j ; I may esteem worthy of the public i j eye. The tongue of the traveller, who ! would inform himself and others, must : be ever ready to make enquiries, his ear ever open to replies he may elicit, and his eye must maintain unwearied vigilance, to arrest fleeting objects and convey their impressions to the mind. It is :n this way that he will form those habits of observation, which may en able him to contribute to the gratifica tion of others. 1 shall feel highly gratified if I have at ail justified my self in my presumptuous undertaking of that correspondence, with yourselves and your readers, from the shores of “the old world,” to which I now ad dress myself. The Arctic steamship, upon her last outward voyage, bore one hundred and forty passengers to England, of which goodly number your correspondent was a unit. Os the trip 1 shall say very little. The weather was generally very pleasant and the passage brief and agreeable. During the evening the passengers would assemble in the saloon and play cards or chess, read, converse or sing, as they desired. An agreeable mode of passing the time was making conundrums. Each per son was compelled to prepare a conun drum for the night, and in case of fail ure, was obliged to sing a song or tell an anecdote. I regret now, that I did not make notes of some of the conun drums, as they proved frequently quite passable. Flirtation was carried on in a remarkable degree, it not being un usual with those affected with the ma nia to, spend the greater part of the night upon the deck, and indulge in the soft nothings so attractive to lovers, and which, it is strange to say, possess a power granted to but few sublunary concerns—namely, the capability of deranging the memory in such a great degree that time itself is forgotten. Several very pretty poems were written during the voyage; and lam reminded th at I have come into pos session of some lilies written by Martin F. Tupper, a copy of which I send you, who will probably beits first publishers: A RHYME ON RETURNING. Hurrah lor old England ! the happy, lair haven We wished for by day and prayed for by night. Hurrah for dear England! that name ever graven On the hearts of her children in letters of light. Hun ah, for we honour and cherish and love her, And count her the praise and the blessing ot earth, Wit'n no one but God and his angels above her, And rich with the best oi humanity’s worth. Yes , heartily join my American brother, In echoing back to your homes in the west, Our patriot love to this glorious mother, Whose conquering sons in two worlds are so blest. Hurrah, as we near her we’ll lustily cheer her, America, England, together rejoice! The better you know her, you’ll find her the dearer, Then give her three cheers at the top oi your voice. And thanks be to God, for the homes we’re longing Soon to behold, and to know that all's well, With dear loving wives and the little ones thronging, To hear of the wonders that travellers tell! Yes thanks from us all, for llis bounteous mer- , cies, Who hath kept us aud blest us alway ; And glad shall we be when remembrance re hearses, How He hath been with us by night and by j ay . Martin F. Titper. Written an heard the Arctic, JuncS. 1851. There are evidently signs of haste in the composition, still, as coining from Tupper, it possesses a degree of ; interest. The sea has, for me, few charms, and even if such were not the case, l should | hesitate to afflict you with any thing con-j nected therewith, as so much lias been said and written upon the subject; but ‘ in one phase I like flic mighty ocean 1 have reference to the rising of the sun at sea. How feeble are all attempts of poet or painter to portray the gor geous beauty of such a scene! The sun —a bright ball of fire—apparently angry at being compelled to resign his sceptre, even for a short time, puts fprtltf a gigantic bursting into View, covers heaven with one flaming shield of brightness. Like some ail-powerful master-artist, with one single, sweeping effort—with one mighty flush of light—he fills his ce . lestial canvass with resplendent hues. I In an instant, all variations of light and shade are beheld; and there they j abide, brilliant beyond description— I the gracious smiles of a Deity; while the rippling, dancing waves seem to rejoice in their heightened beauty and to look lovingly, confidingly, towards the glorious palette, where the mighty j artist has so lavishly spread those uu- I rivalled dyes. Arrived safely off the welcome Eng lish coast, the first land in sight (to me) was the Isle, of Man. After at- I tending to some necessary business in J Liverpool, i set out for London; but j what are my impressions of Liverpool? j Decidedly favourable. The people seem light-hearted and joyous, and the houses are many of them very hand some. With Prince’s Park 1 was par ticularly pleased ; in truth I admire Parks amazingly, and wish they were more common in America. In Prince’s I Park, I saw the usual combination, I here, of winding walks, arbours, seats, grass-plots, beautiful flowers and shrub bery, and a mimic lake with swans upon it. Here 1 beheld the statue and j monument in memory of the lamented j Iluskisson, who effected the passage I of the first rail-way bill through Par- Lament, and who, attending the open ing of the rail-way, slipped upon at tempting to enter the cars as they be gan to move, and was killed. To one. who has travelled much in the United States, it looks strange to see so many police officers and soldiers scattered everywhere, as is the case in England and France. In the former country, every few steps you meet a member of the police force, each one a very fine looking specimen of manhood and all arrayed in a similar garb.— They appear to understand their duty well and to be respected by the mass. In one instance, however, which 1 ob served, such did not seem to be the ease. I was on my way to see the Post Office and Sailor’s Home, (the latter a beautiful building.) and chanced to pass a by-street, where two or three hundred people, at the lowest estima tion, were congregated, and who seem ed to be much excited. In reality, there was a vigorous combat going on. And what astonished me most was this, that the most active combatants were females, but they fought most man fully. During the few minutes 1 acted spectator, a scene of indescribable con fusion was visible. Fiercely and furi ously the feminine warriors flung them selves into the middle of the affray, making free use of their nails and tongues , as you may suppose; but as tew males enacted parts, save as re storers of peace, no bludgeons or wea pons were used. A husband (appa rently) would dash into the melee , seize his wife in his arms, and bear her away ail struggling and desirous of continu ing the contest. The conclusion 1 did not wait to see, and noticed that no one save those in the identical alley,seemed to be aware of the departure from a peaceful demeanour; and this especi ally was the result of my observation, that police officers, though generally everywhere, were entirely invisible at the particular place. I pon continuing my route, I, however, perceived two, not fifty yards off, round the corner , quietly engaged in conversation. The general hubbub and clamour of tongues was so great (’twas the Sabbath and consequently a holiday) that they had not remarked this particular (mettle. Wishing some information in regard to the streets, my companion and my self addressed those worthy guard! ans and were politely answered and informed aright. Thinking that they no doubt were aware ot our native country, and wishing to give them a sly cut, I observed to them : “\ on seem to be police-men and able-bodied men, but you certainly cannot be very much on the alert, to let such a disturbance be created so near you as that we beheld but just now ” “ W here? ’ was the quick rejoinder. “Oh! just round the corner there; only fifty people fighting and no police man present!” “ ’Tis nothin’; oh, ’tis nothin’,” said one, trying to look indifferent; but the other gave a dissenting glance and ! turned to depart for the scene of ope rations. Stopping him, I asked half unconcernedly: And so its nothing, in your coun try, for half a hundred men and women | lo belabour and tear each other on a | Sabbath afternoon, with the police al | most in sight?” I hey looked confused, as if wonder i ‘ n g where we came from, and no doubt ! “ere surprised at our manner of ad dressing “officers.” We continued our way, and on looking back, saw them approaching the uproarious scene. It.was said of Foote, that when ask j cd how much treason a man could write i 111 Lnglaud without being apprehended, | **e answered, “l do not know, but am | trying to find out.” It is so with me. | Seeing so many of these officials, 1 feel a desire to show my disapprobation of such a necessary exhibition as men watching others all the time, that 1 sometimes venture just as far, in my conduct towards them,as prudence will admit—approaching even to audacity. lam and of a free and independent country, and why may 1 not do as I please! This same spirit of mischief may get rue into trouble, but I hope not. There is a strong spice of humour mixed with audacity in my composition. To illus trate. On my way from Liverpool to London, the conductor, as we would say, called on us for our tickets; and for the better understanding of the in cident, allow me to inform you, that I occupied one of the front cars of a long train, and that in all their move ments on the rail-ways, the officials make celerity the grand desideratum. “Let me see your tickets, gentle* men,” was the quick ejaculation of our worthy conductor. Feeling in my vest pocket for mine, where I was confident I had placed it, I found it was gone. All the others j had produced theirs, and 1 became j alive to the agreeable consideration that j I was minus the proof of having paid jmy fare. One pocket underwent a thorough search, then another, and one by one ail told the same story. “Come, sir, I am waiting,” said the impatient conductor. I looked upon the floor, in my hat, shook my newspapers and books, but all to no purpose. “Your ticket, if you please, sir; can’t stand here all day.” My companions now assisted my search, and all began to grow uneasv, whilst calling a soldier to fill his place, the conductor passed on to the other “carriages.” This good fellow thought fit, with his swonl and red coat, to as sume the bully. “Show me your ticket, sir,” sternly ordered he. Not till then did I feel any quicken ing ot the blood ; but fortunately feel ing the vexatious little piece of paste board under the lining of my vest, 1 gave my companions the wink,and con tinued the search more assiduously than ever, maintaining, at the same time, a very anxious countenance. “Sir, will you show me your ticket?” demanded he with authority. Again did I turn cacti pocket, knock the bottom of my inverted hat, and peer intently into the interior, feel in the top of my boots, survey the floor carefully, and obey the many instruc tions of my (now eager) assistants. “Show your ticket, else you get out, unless you pay youi fare,” pierced my ear, as the follower of fife aud drum opened the door. In great distress I assured him I had my ticket; at which he smiled sarcasti cally, and said “ that would not do.” Recommencing the investigation, I begged the impatient individual to be calm, adding that my friend knew 1 had bought a ticket. “You are unreasonable,” I told him; “this gentleman will tell you I have a. ticket. Don’t drive me out. You can t doubt that I have paid my fare.” “ Come, sir, get out.” “ Don’t, I beseech you. Twill do you no good to turn me out. Be easy on a poor fellow, if you please! I’ll find iny ticket presently—don’t be in a hurry.” Several minutes had now elapsed, and his patience was exhausted. J ust then tlie conductor returned, having seen the tickets of those in all the other carriages. “Found your ticket yet, sir?” said he. “Oh yes, found it sometime ago,” answered 1, readily producing it. “All right,” said he, (as the car* moved off’,) slamming the door, wh’ist my companions, bursting into a loud laugh, made the soldier comprehend the state of affairs. A long, silent, sui len look, warned me that it would be/ dangerous to meet him by myself in some retired place; but for that time the fast receding cars calmed all my apprehensions. But l must not extend the length of this letter, and will therefore make two to bring me to Brussels. Yours, faithfully, B. 11. O. [Second letter next week.] A Public Drunkard. —The King of Daooiney, an African monarch, says a recent traveller, keeps a drunkard, feeds him on rum, and exhibits him at the customs, that his emaciated ap pearanee may shame his people from making beasts of themselves.