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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