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1852.] in reality a modem piece of structure. It was of dark mahogany, with its four posts extending completely to the ceiling of the chamber. The bed, however, was not more than about two feet from the floor, the better to enable the party to get into it. The Scotchman, with a good deal of assistance, was soon undressed, and had his body deposited in this place of repose. All the party then retired, wishing him a good night, and removing the candle for tear of accidents. When the door was closed, I was for the first time made acquainted with the structure of the bedstead, which our host considered as his masterpiece. Upon the touching of a spring, outside the door, the bed was so acted upon by a pulley, that it ascended slowly and smoothly through the four posts, until it came within two or three feet of the ceiling. The morning of the Scotchman was the signal for touch ing the spring, and he was soon at the proper altitude. The servants required no instructions how to act. In one mo ment the house was in an uproar; cries of “fire ! fire!” were heard in different directions. A pile of shavings was set in a blaze opposite the window where poor Sawney slept. The landlord’s voice was continually heard, exclaiming, “Good heavens! save the poor Scotch gentle man, if possible; the flames have got into the room just under him!” At this moment we heard him fall, and bellow out. A sudden silence took place —every light was extinguished, and the whole house seemed to be buried in the most profound repose. The Scotchman’s voice could alone be heard, roaring out, in the high dialect of his country, for assistance. At length, two of the men servants, in their shirts, entered the room, with a candle just lit, and yawning, as if imme diately aroused from their first sleep. They found him sprawling on the floor. “O dear, sir, what is the matter with you?” “Matter!” says he; “why, isn’t the house on fire?” “Not at all, sir.” “What was the reason of the cries of fire, fire, then?” “Bless you, sir, you must have been dreaming; why, there’s not so much as a mouse stirring, and his hon our and the whole family have been asleep those three hours.” The Scotch man now gave up all credit in the testi mony of his own senses. “I must ha’ been dreaming, indeed, and ha’ hurt my self by falling out of the bed.” “Hurt yourself, sir ! —not much, I hope, the bed is so low and by this time it had been made to descend to its first level. The poor Scott was quite confused; quite ashamed at disturbing the family ; begged a thousand pardons; accompanied the servants to the door; closed it after them, and was once more left in the dark. But the last act of the pantomime was not performed. The spring had been immediately touched, upon closing the SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE. door, and the bed was soon beyond the reach of our guest. We could hear him groping about, and uttering frequent ejac ulations of astonishment. He easily found the bed-posts, but it was in vain he could endeavour to get in. He moved his hands up and down. His leg was of ten lifted by way of stepping in, but al ways encountered the floor upon its de scent. He uttered exclamations of sur prise not loud, but deep, for fear of again disturbing the family. He concluded himself to be in the possession of some evil spirit. In short, when it was found, by his silence, that he had given up the task as hopeless, and had disposed of himself upon one of the chairs, the bed was allowed to slide down again, and in the morning Sawney could not but ex press his astonishment as not being able to find it in the dark. [Chambers's Edinburgh Journal. Lesson Tor Sunday, December 26. THE NATURE OF THE SOUL. “Life and immortality.”—2 Tim. i. 10. Infidel writers tell us that death is the extinction of our being, and the grave the place of an everlasting sleep; but we believe ‘hat death is the threshold of eternity, and that we shall sleep only till the resurrection morn, and rise either to eternal happiness or never-ending woe. This is only the embryo state of our ex istence : “The dust shall return to the earth as it was,” there is the death of the body ; “but the spirit shall return unto God who gave it,” there is the immor tality of the soul. Let us bring forward some arguments in proof of the soul’s immortality. Its nature. It is a spirit. How do we know this? Because it is capable of apprehending spiritual objects. It has been well observed, that a spiritual ob ject can only be apprehended by a spiri tual operation ; a spiritual operation can only belong to a spiritual faculty, and a spiritual faculty can only be connected with a spiritual being. The Christian can commune with God. “God is a spirit;” he can hold fellowship with angels, “are they not all ministering spirits?” The language of Paul, in Hebrews xii. 22-24, is to the point. He uses the present tense, “Ye are come” to the association of the blest in heaven, But in what sense may believers be said to come ? Not with the body, that would be impos sible; it is by communion “they are come.” And what part of man holds communion with these exalted intelli gences? It is his soul; if so, it must be j spiritual; and if it is spiritual, where is the individual who will deny that it is immortal ? Some say, that what we call a spirit is a mere attribute of life ; but ’ we ask, how is it, when life is sinking, and the body is decaying, the spirit does j not partake of that debility, decay, and disease, of which the corporeal frame is the subject ? How often have the opera tions of the mind been carried on with the greatest intensity, when the body has been hastening to dissolution, and thus the spirit has triumphed over the flesh ! “Pardon and peace through him abound ; He can the richest blessings give ; Salvation in his name is found ; He bids the dying sinner live.” . SHOOTING HENS. The Carpet Bag tells the following good one: Col. B. and Gen. M. were formerly neighbours, and had gardens adjoining each other. One pleasant morning in spring, about the time of planting, Col. R. met his friend, the General, in the street, boiling over with rage, who ad dressed him after this wise : “Confound vour darn’d old hens, Colo nel, they’ve been in my garden, and scratched the beds every which way ; 1 shall have to make them all over again ; 1 can’t you shut them up this autumn ?” “Keep cool, General,” said the Colonel, I prefer that my hens should have plenty of sun, air, exercise and food, and I don’t believe-that your garden seeds will hurt them at all. However, if they trouble you much, shoot ‘em—shoot ‘em'.' 1 “I will by thunder, Colonel,” said the j | still more excited General, “I'll do it, j I’ll do it, blamed if 1 don’t,” and turning around on his heel, marched away, mad as a wild-cat. The next morning as the Colonel was sipping his coflee, the family was startled by the “bang,” “bang,” of fire-arms, the cause of which was soon ascertained. The Colonel, on going to the division fence, looked over and saw Gen. M. in the act of double murder. Six fine spe cimens of the “dung-hill” foul were floun cing about on the ground, unwilling just I yet to yield up their gizzards to the gour- j mand. “Aha, General! so you are executing your threat, are you ?” “To be sure, I told you I’d do it , and 141 lI 4 1l be darned if 1 don’t shoot all the rest, ; if you don’t shut ’em up. But here, take { the thievish critters, I don’t want ’em ; they are too highly seasoned with shot for my family.” Thank you, thank you, Gen. M., just 1 wait a day or two before you kill any more, until we eat these up, and then I’ve no objection to having the rest shot.” Now, Colonel R. was rather jealous of his rights, and, moreover, as fiery as Mars | in his disposition, and it was a great mys-1 tery to the General how he could keep so cool about this matter. The sequel will show. In two or three days after, three more fine fat chickens were thrown into the Colonel’s garden, and duly taken care of by the cook. 293