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IFOR THE TIMES AND SENTINEL.]
To the Snow-Drop.*
Flower of the chill and icy spring,
So modest and so pale,
Ere yet the wintry hours take wing,
Thy early birth we hail;
As lone above the dreary scene,
Thou rearest thy tiny form,
The white-robed mourner of the green,
The sylphid of the storm.
Before the bright and cheering ray,
Thy lonely lot is cast;
And ere the spring can yet be gay,
Thy transient bloom is past.
Yet the sweet flow’r! What summer race,
To vie with thee may dare—
Since all we prize of charm and grace
Are tiny things and fair!
And so the heart in youth’s gay hour
As vainly may approve
To weep thro’ life for some lost flow’r,
Nor wish another love.
For thee the fairest of the year,
Shall sister Beauty sigh,
And parted loves shall drop a tear,
Above thy destiny.
And still tho musing Bard shall turn,
Thy borders lone to tread ;
And oft in sunnier moments mourn.
Above thy bloomless bed.
For so the fairest joys are rest,
And ere life’s spring hath'run,
’ Tho lonely heart feels nothing left,
So dear as what is gone.
Oft may the parent Spring rejoice,
Above thy beauteous birth,
And oft may poesy’s sweet voice,
Revive thy modest worth.
*ln latitudes more Northern, from the middle of January
to the end of I 4 ebruary,the Snow-Drop is seen piercing the
snow, and waving in white blooms in the gale. The sin
gle and the double are equally prized ; and the mourner-like
disk of this flower, bent, towards its cognate bed of snow,
is a grateful first-fruit offering of the year, to the eye of the
sensitive florist.
[WRITTEN FOR THE TIMES & SENTINEL.]
A Scrap from Aunt Patty’s Scrap Bag.
THE RED VELVET BODDICE.
By Caroline Lee Hentz.
CONCLUDED.
Mrs. Worth resumed her narrative. It would
be difficult to tell which was the most attentive
auditor, Estelle or Aunt Patty.
“I do not believe that it is possible fora young
lady to have a favorite article of dress, ca'reless
ly, irretrievably ruined, without feeling conside
rable regret, but it is certain Nora manifested
no anger or vexation.”
“Ibis is one of the disadvantages of being
small,” said she, folding up the unfortunate bod
dice, and laying on it one side, “if I was only of
a reasonable size this would not have happened.”
“Do you really forgive the author of this ca
lamity ?” asked St. Leger.
“To be sure, I do,” answered Nora, smiling.
“From your heart and soul?’’
“From iny heart and soul.”
“I did not believe women capable of so much
magnanimity.”
“1 am sorry you have so poor an opinion of
our sex.”
“Helias been travelling in Europe,” remark
ed Mr. Elmwood. “'J’liat accounts for it; be
sides, if he knew Miss Shirland as well as I do,
lie would be as much surprised at any want of
magnanimity on her part, as he now is at its
manifestation.”
“Thank you, Mr. Elmwood,” said Nora em
phatically; “I valueyour praises, because I do not
deem them compliments.”
“And you should value mine, because they
are compliments” said St. Leger, smiling; “a
gentleman never takes the trouble to compli
ment a lady whom he does not wish to please.”
“As he believes that the only passport to her
favor, it is natural he should make use of it,”
repeated Nora bravely, though there was an ex
pression in her eye that satirized the language
of her lips.
“How can you remember all they said, moth
er?” questioned Eotelle.
“I suppose it made a deeper impression on my
mind, on account of my anxiety on the subject.
I wanted Nora to marry a northern gentleman
and dwell among us. I was convinced that
Mr. Elmwood was not a marrying man, and that
he was satisfied with the warm, pure friendship
that existed between them. I knew that St. Le
ger was fastidious and refined, and I feared
that in my partial judgment, I exaggerated the
winning qualities of Nora. I had penetration
enough to perceive that the equanimity of tem
per she showed with regard to her ruined bod
dice filled him with admiration and respect. It
was evident, that his opinion of woman kind was
exalted. He was a keen observer, and those
who shrunk from scrutiny, did well to avoid the
glance of his dark and beaming eye. I thought
as their acquaintance deepened into intimacy,
that Nora avoided it, hut not because she dread
ed its spirit-reading power. Her heart was
transparent, as its feelings were deep, like the
waters of a still lake, on a clear, summer day.”
Estelle smiled and looked at Aunt Patty as
much as to say, “mother relates a story charm
ingly—does she not?” and Aunt Patty’s nod
responded, “you know I always was a prosy be
ing, darling. My niece Emma used to scribble
poetry, before she married Mr. Worth.”
“As the autumn drew near,” continued Mrs.
Worth, “your Aunt Woodville commence! her
preparations to return to the south. She shud
dered at the idea of our cold northern winters,
but Nora said she longed for a merry sleigh ride,
when the ground was covered with snow, and
the moon made it, if possible, whiter still. We
all begged her'to remain and the children gath
ered round her, with tears, entreating her not
to leave them.
“Perhaps I may return with the flowers of
spring,” said she, caressing them, “for dearly do
I love this genial northern home. I do not think,
however, I could bear the rigors of your wintry
season, with all my admiration of its snow, icicles
and frost gems; she turned towards the window, j
and looked earnestly at the trees, which were
gilded here and there with a golden leaf, and
here and there touched with flame. I thought
she looked very sad, and I wondered if St, £e
ger had been awakening too deep an interest in
her heart, without giving her his own in return.
They had been thrown so much together, in so
cial communion, there seemed such harmony o(
thought and feeling, it appeared impossible, that
if their affections were disengaged they should
not meet and mingle.”
“Niece,” interrupted Aunt Patty, poising her
knitting needle, with a deliberate air, “are you
not making it too much of a love story, for such
a young thing as Estelle?”
“Oh! no,” exclaimed Estelle, with blushing
eagerness, “I like such stories better than any
other. I understand them too.”
“I do not think there is any danger of the de
scription of the attachment of two such beings
as Nora and St. Leger,” said Mrs. Worth, “hav
ing any influence, but what is pure and good. —
Young as Estelle is, she is capable of sympa
thizing in the love which excellence inspires.—
That evening, when St. Leger came, the topic of
conversation was the approaching departure of
our friends. I watched his countenance, and
was sure a change came over it, while Nora’s
color rose. It was not long before we mLsed
them both. There is a very pleasant walk in
front of our house, you know, by that avenue
of poplar trees, which stretches beyond the gar
den. I saw glimpses of two figures walking
back and forth, and back again very slowly. It
was easy to distinguish the lofty form of St. Le
ger, in his dress of black, and any body could
tell who Nora was, so slight and airy she
looked, in the clear starlight, in her white mus
lin robe and black scarf, making such a striking
contrast. I think if I had counted tho num
ber of times they walked up and down that ave
nue, it could not have been less than a hundred.
The children had long been in bed, Aunt Patty
too, your Aunt Woodville retired to her cham
ber, and I remained alone in the parlor reading.
Your farther, “Mrs. Worth never could mention
that name, without a glistening eye and a heaving
bosom.” Your father was absent from home,
and though my eyes were on the book, my
thoughts were wandering in pursuit of him. At
length Nora entered alone. She looked pale
and agitated, and I saw her hands tremble, as
she gathered the scarf more closely round her.
“Nora,” I exclaimed, “you have been too
lonjjr in the night air. You should not have done
so,”
She did not answer, but stepping quietly for
ward, threw her arms round me and laying her
head on my bosom, hurst into tears. I felt
strongly affected. Why should Nora weep?
All my air-castles were then blown to the ground
and I too wept over their ruins. In a few mo
ments Nora raised her head and wiped away her
tears.
“I am so foolish,” she cried, “but I could not
help it, my heart was so full. Dear Mrs. Worth,
I am so happy.”
“Happy, Nora!” a mass of lead was lifted
from my spirits. They rebounded at once.
“Oh yes, so happy, I have no language to ex
press my boundless contentment. That is the
right word, for I ask no more, than just the
blessing gained. You understand me, do you noff
my own dear friend ?”
“I think, l know I do,” replied I, embracing
her with deep emotion. “You have gained the
heart of St. Leger, you have given him your own
in return. There are not many such hearts, Nora.
Oh! you do well to prize it.’’
“I am not so happy, that I have won his heart,
priceless as I deem it,” replied Nora, with en
thusiasm, “as that I have given my own, oh!
there is far more happiness in loving than in be
ing loved. I began to fear that my twin-horn
soul had wandered so far from my peculiar
sphere, our diverging paths would never meet in
this world ; sometimes my heart felt dull, with
the weight of its latent affections. I wondered
why God had given me such capacities of loving
without sending me a being to call them into
exercise. The very first time I met St. Leger,
the master chord of my heart vibrated and I
knew then it would vibrate forever. But not
till this night was, I assured that the impression
was mutual, that I was loved as deeply and
passionately as the wants of my nature require,
oh! it is the realization of a life long dream.”
“God bless you, dear Nora,” said I, “you de
serve to be happy and you will he so. But will
your parents consent to such an union ? will
they he willing to resign you ?”
“They prize my happiness more than their
own,” she replied earnestly, “besides if 1 do
marry Mr. St. Leger,’’ and she blushed crimson,
as she said it, “we will pass all our winters at
the south and only our summers here. Will
not that lie delightful ?’’
“But Mr. Elmwood !” 1 exclaimed.
“No one will rejoice more himself in my pros
pective happiness. He is the most disinterested
of human beings. He knows my whole heart
and I all of his. If I were in sorrow and trial
I would go to him for comfort If I were
deserted by all else, I would be sure of the fideli
ty of his friendships, the steadfastness of his re
gard.”
“In less than a fortnight your Aunt Wood
ville left us and took Nora with her. It seemed
as if the sun were withdrawn from the sky, so
much brightness vanished with her. But she
came back as she had said with the flowers of
spring, the happy wife of St. Leger. I do be
lieve she was happy if ever human being was,
for her dream of love was fully realized. He
was the type of all that is noble and glorious in
man, she, all that is amiable and excellent in wo
man.”
“Where do they live now, mother?” asked
Estelle. “Have I ever seen them?”
“No, my dear, at first it was just as she had
planned. They spent their summers at the
north, their winters at the south, but she gradual-
I ly drew him, without any exercise on her part,
to dwell in her milder latitude. He loved the
j south, for the elements of his character are more
j congenial with it, than the colder atmosphere of
New England. He has a tropic nature and ac
cident only gave him a bright place here. I
correspond with Nora stdl. I will read you some
of her letters, Estelle, they are the transcript of
a true woman’s heart.”
“Thank you, mother, but did Mr. Elmwood
marry ?” #
my dear, he was born to be the friend
of man and woman kind, not to be limited to
the domestic sphere.”
“There are some sensible men in the world,”
observed Aunt Patty, “and he is one.” |
ffl )t &imts ftenfettfl j
COI.DIIUS, CEOIICIA.
FRIDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 18, 1853.
Graham and the Abolitionists.
We have often had the pleasure of calling public at
tention to this spirited monthly. W e now do so with pe
culiar pleasure, since the manly defence of the South and
her institutions in the last issue against the slanders of
Mrs. Stowe, has brought around it a swarm of aboli
tion hornets, who are engaged in the very Christian
work of stinging it to death.
Mrs. Swisshelm, who is so great a favorite with some
Southern Editors, and whose name, we believe, has
never heretofore adorned our pages, very kindly wishes
Graham may lose all his Northern subscriber-*.
Mr. Fred. Douglass has read the aforesaid article “with
disgust!”
Another sagacious and very honest editor tolls him
that he should not have published the article “in the
edition intended for Northern circulation !”
The Hartford Republican quite overwhelms him
with an array of British names which condemn his se
vere but merited criticism.
We are happy to find that Graham keeps quite cool
under these numerous assaults. He very kindly in
forms Mrs. Swisshelm that since the contraband article
appeared, he has added over three thousand names to
his subscription list, four-fifths of whom are North ©f
Mason & Dixon’s line.
Nor does he bate a jot from the censure heaped up
on this bad book in his last number. He very justly
and truly charges that “Uncle Tom’s Cabin is a bad
Book ! It gives an unfair and untrue picture of
Southern life. It is badly constructed, badly timed and
made up for a bad purpose. The work has been suc
cessful, pecuniarly ; but there is such a thing as ‘blood
money,’ speedily gained for nefarious doings * * * the
work is a mere distortion of tacts —a stupenduous lie—
and, therefore, we cannot admit its merit or join its
mob of admirers.”
These are hearty strokes upon the hornets’ nests, and
no wonder the swarm is agitated. Lay on, Mr. Gra
ham. A generous public will appreciate your honesty.
You have God and truth on your side.
But we must not close this notice without calling
public attention to Mrs. Swisshelm’s proposition to pro
scribe the Magazine. Northern politicians have felt
the power of fanaticism, and either bowed to the blast
or been overwhelmed, with here and there a solitary
individual, who, like the unstricken pine in the patli of
the hurricane, are but the monuments of its violence.
The South could give no aid ; her arms were too
short. We saw our friends die upon tho ramparts of
the constitution, and could do no more than shed a tear
over their graves and enshrine their memories in grate
ful hearts. With literature the ease is different. We
can here meet and conquer the devices of our enemies,
by sending on our names and money to the honest Ed
itor, who dares to tell the truth in the face of Aboli
tionism. Let the South therefore patronize Graham,
and proscribe every paper which refuses to defend
and the constitution.
The Duchess of Sutherland—The British Slave
System.
Tfurhypocritical winnings of foreign female abolition
ists have, of nasmall stir in this now world.
And no wonder ! A negro-Avatat has appeared upon
earth in the person of the Duchess of Sutherland —one
of the proudest of tho proud aristocracy of Great Brit
ain—an aristocracy which has trampled upon the rights
of man in the four quarters of the globe, and has nev
er lifted its foot from the neck of humanity, until it rose
in its might and asserted its independence by dagger and
sword, or had no more gold in its sinews and blood ; an
aristocracy which dyed its hands in the sin of the Afri
can slave trade, and had no ear either for the wailings
of the victims of its avarice, or the solemn protests of
our ancestors.
And who is this Avatar, arrayed in the jewels stolen
from the coffers of Asia, whose tears flow so freely over
the wrongs of the African ? What evidence has she
given of her divine mission? Her history is on re
cord. We give it from Graham's Magazine. She
has desolated happy homes ; desecrated sacred hearth
stones ; driven helpless peasants from their native land.
God help the slave when such as she are their only
friends ! But we turn to her biography :
“The great proprietors of North Britain have been
doing all in their power to exterminate and remove
their poor tenantry and dependents from the homes of
their forefathers—for the purpose of turning the vaca
ted districts into sheep-walks, or large farms
—a score of small farms converted into one great hold
ing for a single family. This system has been most re
morsely carried out by the Scottish land-owners. And
it is a remarkable fact—and one which all who have
read of the Stafford-House meeting of English ladies
should bear in mind, when considering the object which
brought them together —that the Ducliess of Suther
land, who has now the foolish audacity to set herself up
as chief censor of our institutions, was (a few years ao-o)
the most wholesale exterminator in Scotland. The Duke
of Buccleueh almost rivalled her in this great outrage !
j against justice and society. But she was in advance of I
j his grace. She east out her shoe over ‘Chattan’s Funds j
! 50 wide,’ and it was filled with consternation and sor
; row. Her possessions amount to nearly a million of acres,
j The Highland population on these amounted to about
15,000 persons, or 3,000 families. They lived in a sim
ple, frugal way ; cultivating their barley and oats on
1 the arable land, and pasturing their cattle on the lulls.
The climate was rough ; and they had enough to do to j
wrestle with the powers of nature for a bare subsistence.
They had their scattered tenments at a low rent, (not
being worth more to them,) and paid it in money, or
labor, or game; considering themselves happy that they
lived among their kindred, in the dwelling-places of
their forefathers. But this was not to last. The
Duchess of Sutherland began to exterminate them
in 1811 ; and for nine years carried on the le
gal razzia against them. They were removed
like so much vermin—without any respect for the feel
ings they might be supposed to cherish as human be
ings. All the north of Scotland was disturbed bv these
i proceedings. But the voice of complaint or indigna
tion was seldom or but inadequately heard south of the
I Border. The lordly land-owners drove out their poor
| dependents, giving each family an acre or two to till in
a strange place, era small sum of money, or paying
their passage to Canada or these States. But, before
they could all be turned out, the poor people (in several
places) grew angry, and made resistance—hurling
stones against the bailiffs and the military, and swearing
they would rather be murdered near the graves of their
parents and children than be driven away from their
ancient holdings. In several of these razzias —worse, j
far worse than those of the French against the Arabs in
Algiers !—houses were burnt down, to smoke and scorch
the people out of them ; and one old woman, refusing
With imbecile obstinacy to leave the chimney-corner,
was actually roasted to death. The name of the
Duchess of Sutherland was mentioned with execration
in the Highlands, and her doings were at last trumpete
by the English press. She tried to oppose the torrent
of public opinion by means of a pamphlet, drawn up
and published by Mr. Loch, her agent 5 and he hasten
tened to show, that having deprived the people of their
old homes, she offered them in remote places two acres
for each family to squat upon—two acres that had never
before been cultivated. For this boon, she charged
them with a rent of half-a-crovvn per acre. Many of
the poor creatures refused her offer. The clan Gunn
or McHarnish (inconsolable for the loss of their own
mountains and valleys of Ivildonan) were among those
who, with thirty families from Strathbrora, came across
the Atlantic, and were mingled with the population of
the New World :
To Lochaber 11a mair, to Lochaber na mair;
Alas! to return to Lochaber 11a mair!
“Mr. Loch tried hard to soften matters. But the
hard, stern fact stood unshaken —that the Duchess of
Sutherland had driven, forced, dragged away from the
hearths and grave-stones of their forefathers 15,000 of
the brave and kindly Highlanders of Scotland, who
looked up to her with confidence and pride as their
cliieftainess. That fact was not to be argued away.
The territory which the Duchess rescued from her
clansmen was afterward divided into twenty-nine large
farms—some of these as large as counties. Each is held
by a single family—conducting the farming-business on
the newest and best English plans. Instead of the fol
lowers of the clan Chattan —who had kept up their
cosy little hearths in that large tract of country —there
were, in 1820, about 132,000 sheep ; and other live stock
in proportion. The place is now comparatively solitary.
The curling of the smoke is se"bn no more rising in the
valleys from the Highland shellings: the duchess
made a solitude there, and called it farming. She de
clares she has a right to do what she likes with her
own ; and can do so with a strong voice and a high
hand. For she is supported by the law of England ;
and kept in countenance by the steady practice of all
the other titled exterminators in the United Kingdom.
She asserts her right, because ‘the law allows it, and
the judge awards it,’ She cares very little for the
thoughts of those who have no tenants to turn out, ac
cording to the statutes in such eases made and pro
vided !
“And what a spectacle, these Scottish nobles, with
names, have been presenting—a spectacle of
the most heartless cruelty and ingratitude ! The an
cestors of the poor people they extirminate supported
their chieftainship in old times with bow and brand—
stood up for it on ‘llighland-heath or Holy-rood,’ and
won for it its coronets and broad acres. The clans
men gave their chiefs’ consideration—renown—wealth ;
and, in the sword-and-buckler days, were treated as chil
dren, friends, and defenders. But time passed by :
Old times were changed, old manners gone ;
A stranger filled the Stuarts’ throne:
and when a peaceful age had come, and these hard
handed followers were no longer needed to march un
der the pennons of tlieir chiefs, they sunk from vvar
'riors into tenants, servants, serfs. And when, at last,
they were considered an incumbrance on the soil—to
which their claim, in justice, was as strong as that of
their landlords—all the past was forgot; and the felonious
lords and ladies of Scotland fell upon their helpless
clansfolk,and drove them out to penury and exile. The
noblest names in the Highlands and Lowlands have
been stained by this baseness. The lingering partiality
which the deathless romance and poetry of our lan
guage us feel for these names, is gone ; and we
fhaHr! S'S'C'CitTSif nobility"•
est a body as they proved themselves in the reigns of
Plantagenets and Tudors, and whenever Scotland or
Scotchmen were to be betrayed. The very pride of
clanship and ancestry must have faded from their
minds, before they could think of thus treating the
honest men and bonny lasses of that courageous and in
telligent people. The Romans tried to drive out these
poor Celts ; but could not.
The Romans attempted their country to Rain,
But their ancestors fought, and they fought not in vain!
The Plantagenets, too, failed. But the Buccleuches,
Sutherlands, and McDonalds have succeeded. The
Highlanders—who flung such eclat over medieval and
modern war, from the days of Montrose to the charge
of Lochiel at Waterloo—are nearly gone. The ruin
of the Celts of Scotland has been as certain, though,
perhaps, less striking than that of their race in Ireland.
“Such is the condition of the United Kiugdorn, and
such the fate of between three and four millions of peo
ple, degraded as ignorant paupers, below the physical
level, and we think we may add, the moral level of our
Southern negroes. It is a hypocritical use of conven
tional terms to call the latter slaves and look on the
British paupers as free men ! These English, Irish, and
Scottish people, are at the mercy of their task-masters ;
who do not whip them, to be sure, bat they starve
them body and soul. The lile of the poor Irish ten
ant and his family hangs on the wall of the landlord,
who can turn them all out as soon as he pleases. Such
helpless wretches cannot stand on the earth and pre
tend their lives are their own. In great cities and fac
tories, the despotism of wealth is just as crushing. The
factory hands are generally paid low and inadequate
wages, and work like beasts or machines, that the mer
cantile interest may flourish, and the bloated cotton
manufacturers live in splendor. Tyrants and tyrant
laws stand between the unhappy people and the soil;
stand between them and the fair livelihood which they
ought to have for their manufacturing industry. Near
four millions of men live like animals or slaves in the i
United Kingdom, Compare the condition of the Irish
peasant with that of the negro. The latter would not j
exchange with a brother so degraded—so trodden up- I
on, and so harassed by physical suffering.”
Dramatical Entertainment.
Mr. and Mrs. Crisp have resumed their Dramatical
exhibitions at Temperance Hall, and will eontiaue them
i through the week. It not often happens that such ar
tistic Talent graces our boards. Mr. and Mrs. Crisp are
very superior actors, both in tragedy and comedy.
Smiles and tears ar® equally at their command. In
j their first exhibition Mrs. Crisp’s Lady of Lyons elicited
unbounded applause. The struggle of love with pride
and its final triumph was portrayed with great power •
she was ably supported by Mr, Crisp in the character of
Claude. VY e however more admired his personification
of Joe in the afterpiece. It was as ludicrous as one of
the Georgia Scenes read by Longstreet. There is
nothing in these exhibitions which can offend the most
fastidious taste; and the very generous conduct of Mr.
Crisp since his arrival in our city entitles him to the
liberal patronage of the public.
Vice President King.
Col. King arrived at Havana on the 6th. His health
was improving.
Further by Ike Niagara.— Hirsch & Cos., of Rot.
terdam, hat e failed. Their liabilities are estimated
at one hundred and fifty thonsand pounds sterling.
The Concert Wednesday Night*
Old Bull was welcomed by a larger audience than
ever assembled in this city on a similar occasion.—
His performances were quite as wonderful as we had
anticipated ; yet splendid as they were they scarcely
elicited more applause than the sweet voice of little Patti.
M, Strakosch presided with his usual ability over the
Piano.
Counterfeits.
We are informed that a large number of counterfeit,
SSO bills, on the Marine and Fire Insurance Bank of
Savannah, are in circulation. The spurious bills may
be distinguished from the genuine by measuring from
the inside of the circular dies, on the tops of each mar
gin, from right to left. On the genuine hills the sp.;ce
between these dies is 4 8-10 inches; and on the spuri
ous bills, the distance is only 4 6-10 inches. No issue
of the old plate, with the bee-hive in the centre, has
been made since 1850, and no more will be made in the
future.
New Cabinet—More Rumors.
Washington , Feb. 10, 1853—1 tis generally con
ceded jthat the Herald is the nearest right in re
gard to the cabinet. I learn that the following are
thought to he in the programme :
Caleb Cushing of Mass Secretary of State.
Robt. F. Stockton, ofN. J Sec’ry the Navy.
R. McClelland, of Mich... .Postmaster Gen.
I send you these names pro bono publico. I know
that Cabinet rumors from this city are considered
worthless.
Congressional.
February 11.—In the Senate, yesterday, resolu
tions were adopted calling for information in refer
ence to o a line of mail steamers to China, and to the
proceedings of the Mexican Boundary Commission.
Several private bills were passed; and debate
followed on the Texas debt.
The House of Representatives passed the bill to
establish the territorial‘government of Washington,,
and the bill to organize the Territory of Nebraska..
The Messrs. Baring have loaned to Spain fifty
seven million reals, on security of National pro
perty.
Result of Cheap Fares. —lt is stated that since
the reduction of fare to Albany on the Harlem road
the receipts for through business have increased 50
per cent.
Bishop Whiltingham. — Baltimore, Feb. 10.—
Bishop Whittingham, of Maryland, leaves this city
for N. York this morning, en rente to Italy, on ac
count of his continued ill health.
Detroit, Feb. 10.—The Maine Liquor Law
passed the Legislature yesterday, and will be sub
mitted to the people for ratification or rejection at
the special election next July.
FOR THE TIMES AND SENTINEL.
A Psalm.
1. Great is the Lord, and wonderful are his handy
works.
2. lie hath spread out the heavens, and fixed the
stars in their spheres.^
3? He hatlTplaced the sun in his seat, and guideth
the moon in her changes.
4, He bath poured the ocean in its bed, and set
bounds to the billows of the sea.
;. Day and night come at his bidding, and delay not
when he calls.
6. He clotheth the earth with verdure, and givetli
color to the flowers.
7. The bird singeth bis songs in the forest, and the
breath of our nostrils is his.
8. He shaketh the forests with whirlwinds, and fans
tender grass.
9. He poureth out the heavy rain, and scattereth the
gentle dews of night.
10. lie heaveth up the great mountains, and the
smiling valley is the work of his hands.
11. He findetli a channel for the rivers, and guideth
the bolt of the thunder.
12. He givetli breath to every living thing—the
small and the great are the work of his hands.
13. The splendor of morning is his, when the sun
riseth, and the glory of evening.
14. lie bringeth fortli the spring, and the frosts of
winter melt at bis breath.
15. Seed-time and harvest are his ministers.
16. Great and terrible are thy works, 0 Lord.
17. Worthy is He of praise—let all the earth praise
Him.
18. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within
rne, praise His holy name.
Imported Fowls.
During the last week, we enjoyed the pleasure
of inspecting, in company wiih ‘Charles Collins,
i Esq., of this city, a large variety of curious fowls
i which he has imported into this part of the country
; after great trouble and expense. We were partic
ularly struck with the great number of beautiful
! pigeons who went stru ting about in the sunshine,
evidently as proud of their radiant plumage as a
( pretty woman is of her curls. There was°the Ca
puchin with his reversed feathers forming a hoed
looking around as sanctimoniously as a Priest, and
! exhibiting the same love of good’ things in the bu
! sin ess-1 ike manner with which he eats his food.
There was the tumbler, a species of pigeons which
by gracefully to a certain heighth, arid then fall
rapidly to the ground in a succession of sum
mersets—like many arnbhicus orators who
; try flights which they cannot sustain. There, too,
! “ as the Povvter, a bird which possesses a wonder
! M faculty of elevating his head, arid distend ng
his craw after such a lordly fashion, as is only
equalled by a Savannah Alderman as be walks
down to the Exchange after a hearty dinner of shad.
The Oyster Bird is the reve'se of the Powter. He
j ls as lachrymose in appearance as the Alderman is
I when the first >had comes to Macon. The Fantail
| l6 another beautiful variety of Pigeon. When one
! of this class stands erect, his head is partly cover
ed by the plumage of the tail, and his breast pro
tiudes in such away, that one almost fancies that
he hears him say, come on, Me Duff. Mr. Collins
has also a rare collection of valuable poultry—con
sisting of Cochin Chinas, Bantams, Shanghais, and
many others whose names we have now torgotten.
Mr. C. assured us that he has four hens which
have y.elded him 159 eggs since the latter part of
December. On the whole, vve were greatly pleas
ed and instructed by our visit—somewhat on ihe
account of the novelty and singularity of the spec
tacle, but more, because it induced us to hope that
the example of Mr. Collins would be followed by
other gentlemen who have the time and the
means to import into the farm yards of Georgia