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[Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.] UNDER THE LAMP-LIGHT. A PRIZE POEM. BY MISS A>'XXE R. lILBI ST. Under the lamplight, watch them come. Figures, one, two, three; A restless mass moves on and on, Like waves on a stormy sea. Lovers wooing. Billing and cooing. Heedless of the warning old, Somewhere’in nncouth rhyme told, That old Time, Love’s enemy. Makes the warmest heart grow cold. See, how fond the maiden leoneth On that strong encircling arm; While her timid heart is beating Near that other heart so warm; Downcast are her modest glances, Filled, her heart, with pleasant fancies— Clasp her, lover!—clasp her closer— Time, the winner, thon, the loser! He will steal From her sparkling eye, its hi ightness. From her step, its native lightness; Or, perchance, Ere another year has fled. Thou may'st sec her pale and dead Trusting maiden! Heart, love-laden— Thou may’st learn That the lip which breathed so softly Told to thee a honeyed lie; That the heart, now beating near thee. Gave to thee no fond return— Learn —and die! Under the lamplight, watch them come, Figures, one, two, three; The moon is up—the stars arc out, And hurrying crowds I see— Some with sorrow, • Os the morrow, Thinking bitterly; Why grief borrow ? Some , that morrow Ne’er shall live to see. Which of all this crowd shall Ood Summon to his court to night f Which of these many feet have trod These streets their last ? Who first shall press The floor that shines with diamonds bright? To whom of ail this throng shall fall The bitter lot, Tp hear the righteous Judge pronounce: “Depart, ye cursed —I know ye not!”— Oh! startling question !—who t Under the lamplight, watch them come, Faces fair to sec— Some that pierce your very soul With thrilling intensity. Cold and ragged, Lean and haggard— God! what misery! gee them watch yon rich brocade, By their toiling fingers made, With the eyes of poverty. Does the tempter whisper now : “JSuch may be thine own!” —but howt— Sell thy woman's virtue, wretch. And the price that it will fetch Is a silken robe as fine— Gems that glitter—hearts that shine— But, pause, reflect! Ere the storm shall o’er thee roll, Ere thy sin spurns all control— Though with jewels bright, bedecked, Thou wilt lose thy self respect; All the good will spurn thy touch As if 'twere an adder's sting— And the price that it will bring /* a ruined soul! God protect thee —keep thee right, Lonely wanderer of the night! Under the lamplight, watch them come— Youth, with spirits light; His handsome face I'm sure doth make Some quiet household bright. , Yet, where shall this lover. This son, this brother, Hide his head to night? Where the bubbles swim On the wine-cup’s brim; Where the song rings out Till the moon grows dim; Where congregate the knave and fool, To graduate in vice’s school. Oh! turn back, youth! Thy mother’s prayer Rings in thy ear— Let tinners not Entice thee there. , Under the lamp-light, watch them come, The gay, the blithe, the free; And, some with a look of anguished paiu ’Twould break your heart to see. Some from a marriage, Altar, and priest; gome from a death-bed, Some from a feast; Some from a den of crime, and some Hurrying on to a happy home; Some bowed down with age and woe, Praying meekly as they go; Others—whose friends and honor are gone— To sleep all night on the pavement stone; And losing all, but shame and pride, Be found in the morning a suicide. Rapidly moves the gliding throng— List the laughter, jest, and song. Poverty treads On the heels of wealth; Loathsome disease Near robust health. Grief bows down Its weary head; Crime skulks on, With a cat-like tread. Youth and beauty, age and pain— Vice, and virtue form the train— Misery, happiness, side by side; Those who had best in childhood died, Close to the good—on they go, gome to joy, and some to woe, Under the lamplight— Watch them glide. On, like the waves of a swelling sea, On, on, on, to Eternity! — Discovering of the Tomb of Pharaoh Amo- SIS. — A letter from Cairo, in the Const itutionnel, says that the general subject of conversation in that city is tiie discovery which has just been made by the well known arclueologist, M. Mar iette. Ho has found, at Thebes, after long and difficult researches, the tomb, still intact, of Pharaoh Amosis. The King is lying in a coffin, completely covered with gold leaf, ornamented with large wings painted on it. Thirty jewels of great value were found in the same coffin by the side of the king, as was also a hatchet of gold, ornamented with figures in lapeis lazuli. Somo years ago, M. Marietto had a similar piece of good fortune, in finding in the tomb of Apis, the jewels now form the principal ornament of the Egyptian Musoum of the LoUvre. The jewels of Amosis are still more valuable, from thoir nnml>er and quality. This discovery of a royal tomb intact is the most important one that M. Mariette has yet made in Egypt. mwwmm'&M wmm ib vxiusgxDK. We regret that we have not been permit, ted to attach the author's name to the contribu tion which we publish below, entitled, “the Race.’’ It is a name more widely known than that of any writer who has yet appeared in our columns. Its mention would cause the graphic sketch be low to be read by thousands of readers, beyond the limits of the circulation of .the Field and Fire side, in every State of the Union. [Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.] THE RACE. . “Locum capiunt. eignoque repente Corripiunt, spatta audito. limenque relinquunt Kffusl, nimbo, simile*: Dim til ultima signant." Transplanting is frequently an improvement to both man and vegetable. To the “forked rad ish,” fresh influences are imparted in respect to soil, climate, and society. The pioneer has hard necessities pressing on him, and cannot indulge in his previous pastimes. The jocund jest, with its merry laugh, the quick repartee, with its sharp snap, the captivating gossip, usually “ground in” with mystery and malice, the “Va riety Store,” with its gross defilements; and, in deed, all his sportive amusements, are wanting in his comparative state of isolation. Every thing is new about him—his home, soil, and associates. Even his habit of labor has a novel constancy which necessity impresses. Hence, new ideas are awakened, and new energies de veloped. In this condition was Peter Persimmon, when he emigrated to the South from tiie Old North State, where lie had grown to manhood without ambition, and almost without offence. He ac cepted, and answered to tiie appellation of Pete, given to lfim by universal consent, ne could not object to this curtailment, since he clipped his own vernacular as closely as he sheared his sheep. When he first came among us, his appearance and dress indicated an unmistakable locality.— There was a certain dryness of skin, which, in some measure, may be illustrated by his native State, whose juices, ( political , if there be sucli ?) have been absorbed by its more pretending ri val or patron —the Old Dominion. His garb, though locally fashionable, was de ficient in uniformity. Tiie length and breadth of liis coat was in manifest contrast with his pantaloons. The upper garment had subsidized tiie lower, and was expanded in great profusion of the web, but not with that neatness and vol ume of a lady's skirt, which decorates and sweeps tiie pavement. Indigo and copperas were tiie simple chemicals that lent their com bined hues to tiie stripes of ids vestments, whose range was considered to be most ornamental by being “ ringed.” It is to be noticed, that in emigrating to the southward, many people of the Middle States kept constantly in view a similarity of the earth's formation to that which they had left. The gran ite-belt was followed closely when the emigrant of it came to the South. Nor was the rule va ried in respect to other emigrants, who had lived in and left tiie pine region of tiie Carolinas.— Here, tiie spontaneous herbage, so attractive to tiie indolent habits of the herdsman, the facility' of cultivating a loose soil, the products of that soil reared with tiie least care and labor, and above all, the cheerful and prompt blaze of the lightwood, fixed liis “destiny” on the spot, where inclination confirmed habit, and habit ripened into love. Pete was not an exception to the rule, but fell into it as one “to the manner born.” Pete had performed with his faithful ox—No liorns—liis forenoon's task of plowing, and re turned to liis dwelling. No-lioms stood under the shade of a tree, and was feeding, by way of preparing for additional labor, and chew ing the meditative cud, whilst the languid, still loving eyo of his master rested on him. It was then that a man on horseback was seen approaching down the gentle slope of the lane. This was Cader Beed, who was mounted on a nag of high metal and sharp points, or, as his rider described him, as a “ horse of tremen dious ambition, and that corn and fodder didn’t show upon him.” It is probable that owing to his indomitable temper, lie was early stricken with blindness. His name was Ginger, though his master frequently called him, on impressive occasions, his Ginger-Sprout. Cader was susceptible and easily tempted ; confidence and credulity beset him inwardly and outwardly'. He was apt in acquiring habits not fit to be followed. Most of his foibles came by beguilement. Few were innate. When opposite to the place where Pete was sitting, Cader checked liis horse, and threw his left leg on tho pummel of the saddle, when the customary greetings passed between them, full of the common-place anxieties concerning self, family, neighborhood, and crops, which an Arab might consider equally devoted as to share his bread. After a pause, “Have you come to that, Pete?” inquired Cader, and at the same time casting a leer on Nohorns. Suddenly a tinge came over the cheek of Pete ; “ his heart’s meteors tilting in his face." So invariably is it that companionship with kind ness carries generous reciprocities, even be tween the human and brute kinds. Pete and his ox had been partners of toil in the field and forest. Noliorns wqs docile, gentle, and patient —qualities always garnered in the memory when their possessor has passed away. But there stood No-homs, “sensible to feeling as to sight.” Cader perceived that Pete had been touched, and promptly said “that he had tried to plow a steer, but the beast went so slow, that he took two naps in plowing a single row.” “Ah, ha!” exclaimed Pete. “Very good and very true, if you are one of the seven sleepers. Do you think all steers are alike ?” “Certainly,” answered Cader, “as two black eyed peas, only some are fatter than others—all are slow.” “Then,” with great civility rejoined, Pete, “yon are mistaken. In my day and in North Caro lina I have seen steers that could run.” “ You don’t mean to say that Nohorns is of that breed ?” inquiringly asserted Cader. “ I can’t tell, as I have never tried him but in the plow and cart. If put to his trumps, he might win or lose a trick.” “ Oh, ho 1” exclaimed Cader, “ I see what you are after. If so be, you wish to run him against Ginger, name your terms. What odds do you want ? Will you bet five dollars in good money—no wild cat ” Cader was thus rapidly proposing for a race, when Pete lazily rose from his seat, went round to Ginger and examined him with apparent list lessness especially his eyes. Cader interposed, by saying “that Ginger was blind in both eyes.” “Stone-blind ?” asked Pete. “Yes, he can’t tell daylight from midnight. How will you run?” impatiently asked Cader. “Let mo gather my thoughts,” replied Pete, who had moved back to his seat witli the same perceptible langor that he had left it. He ap peared to become deeply contemplative, which the eager nature of Cader could not easily brook. “ Come, Pete, name your terms. After all said and thought, it is only a blind horse against a no-horn steer.” “ Well,” replied Pete, with a simulated yawn, “I think that I will run No-horns against Gin ger, if we can agree on the terms of the race.” In the beginning of the negotiation, some of the preliminaries were soon adjusted. It was agreed that No-liorns was to have ten yards in the start of Ginger, and that the horse was to overtake, or pass the ox, if he won the race. This articlo was the result of necessity and mutual honor, as no person, except the parties, was present, who could judge the race. Also, that each party was to ride his own animal, but that there should be no claim for ‘•foul-riding or loss of weight,” in case either was thrown in the race. Also, that the ox was to have a position on the right side of the lane, whilst the horse's starting point was to be nearer on the left side, and with thirty feet in the rear of No-horns, measured from two parallel lines, drawn at a right angle from the heads of the two racers. Pete insisted that No-horns should have a position on the right, without a clear conception that it was the place of honor. He saw an ele ment of success in it, which had been calculated with accuracy, and probably in strict conformity to the most approved system of the doctrine of chances. Cader was indifferent and impatient. He had not carefully examined the localities, and would doubtless have overlooked that, which the strategetieal eye of Pete detected, not wholly as a contingency. The sanguine tem perament of Cader (may Heaven help him and his class!) usually brought all his schemes within a narrow compass. In this instance, he had cir cumscribed himself to the mettle and heels of Ginger. Some disagreement arose between the parties in respect to the one who was to give the ex hilerating word, “Go.” “ Where there is a will, there is always away.” In default of the con stitutional currency, the parties were compelled to take the school-boy's alternative—wet or dry on a chip. Ginger won the word. The greatest difficulty was, whether the race was to be run westward or eastward, as the lane lay in these directions. To the East the distance was longer, and surface gently rising. To the West the depression continued, which increased the chances of success of a sure-footed animal, like the ox; and the distance was much shorter. There was no “ red-tapery” here, but earnest diplomacy which was satisfactorily con cluded by a poetic explosion of Pete’s, witli a flourish of his right arm over his head: “ Westward the star of empire knock* its way.” All matters having been arranged, by skill on the one side, and confidence on the other, the riders were mounted, the animals appropriately placed, when in quick succession came and re turned the words: “ Are you ready “ Yes.” “Go.” Away they went, with “a fair start.” Acci dents wall happen in the best regulated families. Pete was soon “unseated.” He was not silent in his fall; but gave forth a hideous scream, which might have challenged the sympathies of Cader, as it accelerated the movements of No homs. After his fall, Pete suddenly threw himself into the shape of two sides of a right-angled triangle —his body as the base, and his legs as the perpen dicular ; or, as he exuberantly described, “like two fence rails, with toes, stuck down at the end of the “first-cut.” The race was slashing to the sand, and of short duration. It terminated at the end of the lane, where on the right was a thick cluster of scrubby oaks, into whicli No-horns darted with the case and security of an accustomed retreat, but from which Ginger recoiled, though urged to penetrate by tongue and heel. It was a “dead lock.” The race was over and won. As Cader was returning, after the unsuccess ful pursuit of Nohoms, his chagrin was increased by certain gambols of Pete, who was full of searching emotions : still, none of them had the sharp angularity of the Y. • He was only demon strative in melody and action. His chant of victory was a piece of jingle and rhyme. He began with an importation from ‘‘Old Virginny ‘•lndia cotton petticoat, nappy cotton town, Shoes and stockings in the hand, and feet upon the ground.” His attitudes were changeful. He would turn the point of his foot to the earth, and ele vato the heel; then reverse the position, by shov ing the heel into the sand, and raising his toes, which lie accompanied with a stave from the popular ballad of “Jim Crow." “Why did you holloa ?” asked Cader. “Only to let Ginger know that I was thrown. I knew that he was promiscuous in his stride, and might run over some people unseen, still, I was sure that he would see, and spare my fence rails.” “And, you might have added,” said Cader, “and to scare Nohorns. Here’s the five.” “I can’t take your money,” answered Pete. “Why not ?” quickly interrogated Cader. “Because, whenever you go it blind against a scared steer, and scrub oak thicket, you may bo certain of a sudden pull up,” “Then, Pete, I have one request to make, which is that you will not speak of this race. Remember, Ginger has a character to lose.” “And No-homs has one to make, and a few more such racer will “There it is,” interposed Cader, “a banter for another race.” “I cave, and Ginger is for sale.” “Do you intend to buy another horse ?” in quired Pete. “ Yes,” responded Cader. “ Then,” solemnly rejoined Pete, “don’t go to North Carolina for a race. You will lose all.— Since I have been in Georgia, I am growing dull er and slower every day.” - The Iron Crown of Lombardy. —On the 23rd of April last the Iron Crown of Lombardy was solemnly removed by the Austrians, under the protection of a strong body of horse, from Monza to the fortress of Mantua. This Iron Crown has, of course, a history. The little town of Monza was the spot on which Theodoric the Great (the Dietrich of Bero, of the German Hero Legend,) Mhd a palace built, and on which Theu delinde, wife of the Longobard King, Agilulf, had a magnificent church erected. To this church Theudelinde, presented the Iron Crown, which she had made for her husband. Our au thority for this is the historian of the Longobards, Paul Wamefrid. The crown is made of gold, but has inside an iron ring, of which the legend relates that it has been forged from the nails of our Saviour’s cross. Charlemagne was crowned with this Iron Crown —after him all the German Emperors, who were likewise Kings of Lombar dy. On the 26th of May, 1805, Napoleon put it on his head, with the words of renown— “ Dieu me Fa dome; gare a qui y touchera.” — This threat became afterwards the motto of the Order of the Iron Crown, which Austria, with a few slight alterations, allowed to continue in existence. —m Liberty will not descend to a people; a peo ple must raise themselves to liberty; it is a blessing that must be earned before it can be enjoyed. HT We are much obliged to the lady who has kindly communicated for our columns the fol lowing sketch. It is from the pen of Professor M. La Boude, of South Carolina College, and was intended, originally, as a contribution to a volume which it was proposed to publish in aid of the Mount Vernon cause. The proposed pub lication having been abandoned, the following ■ sketch was handed us by a friend who had ob j tained the author's consent, for insertion in the Field and Fireside. A Poem entitled “ The Pil ! grim,” from another pen, but having the same original destination, was handed us at the same ! time. The poem wiil be given to our readers in ! a subsequent number of the Field and Fireside : AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF WASHINGTON. Some years ago there lived in Edgefield Dis trict, South Carolina, an old lady named Perry. I was passing the road on which she lived, in a carriage with the late Judge Butler. He said to me that it was his habit to call upon her, when ever he was in the neighborhood ; that she was a great Whig—had seen Washington, and spoke of him with a fervor and devotion rarely equalled. She had often described the great man to him, and recounted the incidents of their meeting ; but he desired that I should hear the story from her own lips. When we reached the house, we alighted and entered. I was introduced by the Judge, and in a few moments, I mentioned the name of Washington. To her, it was a name dear above all others, and her beaming eounte nance at once showed that I had touched the deep fountain of her love and affections. “Have you ever seen Washington ?” “Yes, yes,” she replied; “a great many years ago he passed through this neighborhood. My father, was a Whig in the Revolution, and a Captain. He rendered good service to his country, and at the end of the war lost his life in battle. He left a wife and several children. We were living not far from this spot, wh:n Washington came to the South. One afternoon, about dark, a car riage stopped at our door. There were three or four horses, and two servants. A gentleman came in, and asked to stay all night. I was in the room, when he entered, and, young as I was, I was struck by his appearance. He did not look like other men. He was a large, tall, sweet, pleasant, smooth-looking man. I had no suspicion as to who he was, but I was certain, that he was very uncommon for something. In a short time he told me that he was George Wash ington. And now, the youngest of us looked upon him as a father, for we had all heard of him, and been taught to love him. He said to us that our deceased father was a brave man, and a patriot; that he knew what he had done for his country ; that lie had made a long drive to reach our house, that he might see his family. In about half an hour, he left the house and I followed him secretly'. He went to the horse-lot, to see about his horses, and I tell you, he scolded his man for not properly attend ing to them. In a short time, he returned, and took his seat with the family. He then called me to him. I was shy, and would not go, but ho urged me, and at last I went to him. He took mo in liis lap. put his arm around me, talked about my father, and told me how he loved all of us. He was so affectionate, and talked so kind ly, that I soon forgot I had never seen him be fore. While he had me in his lap, he slipped two gold pieces into my hand, and oh ! I was so young and foolish, that I soon parted with them 1 If I had them now, how I would prize them 1 Well, when supper was ready, he took his seat at the table. We were poor, and some of the elder part of the family had to servo as waiters. Washington’s servant was in the room, and see ing how the waiting on supper table was done, he said to him with great feeling, in these very words : “Why do you not wait upon the table, sir? why do you stand there like a log ?” Coming, as this story does, from a reliable source, it may serve to illustrate the character of Washington. It is a picture of that great man on the roadside—in the intercourse of common life. It is not Washington surrounded by the pomp and pageantry of a military chieftain— Washington, the head of a great nation, with all tho splendors which attach to a court; but Washington, the man, in the naked simplicity of his character. Here, he is presented as moved by the common affections which actuate human ity ; as letting his love go forth towards a little girl, and bestowing caresses which the innocence and simplicity of childhood are apt to inspire in common bosoms; as alive to the necessities of a family in straightened circumstances, and anxious to abate as far as possible, the trouble of giving him entertainment; as striving to make himself agreeable in their household, and lastly, as ex hibiting a benevolence which thought it not beneath its proper exactions to look to his horses and provide for their wants and necessities. Such a picture gives us a view of Washington which appeals to every heart. It touches a sympathetic chord in every bosom, and embold ens the humblest even to eall him friend and bro ther. South Carolina College, Columbia, S. C. THE J3OLIAN HARP. During the summer season many persons might enjoy the melancholy musicofthis instru ment : we, therefore, give the following direc tions for its construction: Tt consists of a long, narrow box, of very thin wood, about six inces deep, with a circle in the middle of the upper side, of an inch and a half in diameter, in which are to be drilled small holes. On this side seven, ten or more strings of very fine catgut are stretched over bridges at each end, like the bridge of a fiddle, and screwed up or relaxed with screw-pins. The strings must all be turned to one and the same note, (D is perhaps the best,) and the in strument should be placed in a window partly open, in which the width is exactly equal to the length of the harp, with the sash just raised to give the air admission. When the air blows upon these strings with different degrees of force, it will excite different tones of sound. Sometimes tho blast brings out all tho tones in full concert, and sometimes sinks them to the softest murmurs. A colossal instrument of this description was invented at Milan, In 1786, by the Abbe Galtoni. He stretched seven strong wires, tuned to the notes of the gamut, from the top of a tower sixty feet high to the house of a Signor Moscate, who was interested in the success of the experiment; and his apparatus, called the “giant’s harp,” in blowing weather yielded lengthened peals of harmonious music. In a storm, this music was sometimes heard at the distance of several miles. —— — mms- -**♦- Capt. Harwood, Commander Dahlgreen, and Lieut A. L. Maury, havo been, by the Navy De partment, appointed as a board to test such small fire arms as may be presented. [Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.] m GOING IT BLIND—A TRUE STATEMENT ON FACTS. A year or two after the settlement of Merri wether count}-, Georgia, a few persons who did not love the restraints of religious discipline, formed a small society of Universalists. They had a monthly meeting at a large school house. Their minister not attending very regularly, Dr. Adams, a talented man, and an excellent physi cian, would hold forth with a lecture in his place. Amongst the society, was an old Baptist, who had distilled liquor, and drank more of it than he ought to have done, and his church had turned him out. Age, infirmities, and too much dram , had laid him on his death bed. lie sent for Dr. Adams to prescribe for him, being sorely troubled both in body and mind. “ I don’t know, Doc tor,” said he, “ about our doctrine of universal salvation. I think I shall die, and I don’t feel quite as safe as I have heard people say they do in like cases. Do try and do something for me, if you can. I’m mighty bad off every way.— Things look dark in the grave. I aint prepared to die.” . Thc doctor was taken aback; but, rallying, in l his jovial way, he said: “ Oh, no danger—no danger; die like a man, and just go it blind!'' He went it blind; the Doctor followed him blind, too, in a year after; the society dissolved; and now in the neighborhood there is no distillery no drunkenness—but a flourishing church, with nearly two hundred members, who. we trust, are not taught with a blind faith. R. [Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.] A CHEW OF TOBACCO. Tobacco has been praised in both poetry and prose for hundreds of years. The way-worn traveller, the storm butting sailor, the wounded soldier have begged it as almost a last request —and many a poor mortal has breathed his last breath —pinching its delicious juices through his chattering teeth. We think our old friend Mr. James Epps, of Newton county, had a taste of its enjoyment far beyond many who think they love it. He was a volunteer in Capt. Saffold’s company, in their campaign in 1816. On his discharge, returning through the Indian nation, meeting a negro man,he only thought of tobacco having been deprived of it for some two weeks; running up to the’negro, he exclaimed : “ for God sake give me a chew of tobacco.” “ Lord, marsa,” said the negro, “ I just put the last chew in my mouth, half an hour ago.” “Well, I must have it ” said Epps, “ out with it, or I’ll kill you.” Choking the negro, he disgorged a stout chaw-. Said Epps : “ I shall never forget the taste of that tobacco, as long as I live; I kept it in my mouth all night and next day—l yet dream of it—taste and memory must be immortal.” R. The Bible.—The follow-ing is a calculation of the number of books, verses, letters, etc., contained in the Old and New Testaments. They are worth reading and preserving: Old Testament. —Number of books, 39 ; chap ters, 929; verses, 33,214; words, 562,439; let ters, 2,729,100. The middle book is Proverbs. The middle chapter is Job xxix. . The middle verse would be Chronicle xv. 17, if there were a verse more, and verse 18 if there were a verse less. The word “and” occurs 35,543 times. The word “Jehovah” occurs 6,355 times. The shortest verse is 1 Chronicles i. 25. The 21st verse of the 7th chapter of Ezra contains all the letters of the alphabet. The 19th of the 2 Kings and the 37tli chapter are alike. New Testament. —Number of books, 27; chap ters, 268; verses, 6,050; words, 181,258; let ters, 828,580. The middle book is 2 Thessalonians. The middle chapter is Romans xiit., if there were a chapter less; and xiv., if there were a chapter more. The middle and least verso is John xi. 35. Old and New Testament. —Number of books 66; chapters, 1,189; verses, 40,264; words, 773,797; letters, 3,556,680. The middle chapter, and the least in the Bible, is the 118th Psalm. The middle verse is Psalm cxvn. Calcclator. Superiority of TUE Brain in Man.— The de crease of quantity in brain, and the correspond ing diminution of intelligence, do not run regular and parallel all down the scale ' animal exist ence, No very accurate conclusions, therefore, can be drawn as to the degree of intelligence any animal possesses from the proportional amount of its brain. In the mammalia the principle holds good very generally. The weight of man’s brain in proportion to that of his body varies from 1 to 22 to 1 to 35—that is, giving an average of about Ito 27. The long armed ape is as Ito 40; the fox 1 to 205, the donkey as 1 to 254, the beaver as 1 to 290, the hare as 1 to 300, the horso as 1 to 400, the ele phant as 1 to 500, and the rhinoceros as 1 to 2,000. In birds the proportion is greater; but not the cerebral portion, which is the seat of the intellectual faculties, for here the cerebellum is comparatively large. The brain of the canary bird is given as 1 to 45, the sparrow as 1 to 25, the eagle as 1 to 360 that of the goose as 1 to 360, and it is said the cavity for the brain in the parrot is smaller than that of any other bird. From the fact of this bird being able to chatter a little, and to give a sort of expression to certain words, it might have been expected to have a larger proportion of brain; but what display of intelligence is there in the talk of a parrot? In the reptiles the brain becomes exceedingly small. That of the tortoise is given as Ito 2,240; that of the sea tortoise as 1 to 5,688 ; and the space for the brain in the crocodile is so small that it will scarcely admit a man’s thumb into it. In some fishes the brain is almost lost. In the tunny it is as 1 to 37,000, while, however, that of the carp approaches very nearly to the proportion of that of the elephant. It is, therefore, difficult to gather any particular and precise conclusion from such an irregular gradation of facts; but the general and broad principle is plain. With the exception of a few small birds, as sparrows, finches, and bats, which are generally very lean, and therefore weigh but little, man greatly ex ceeds all in the proportion. Phrenological Journal m ■ Harbor Filling Up.—The harbor of New port, R. 1., the most extensive, secure and ac cessible port on the Atlantic seaboard of the United States, is said to be slowly but surely filling up, at the rate of about one inch per year. This is attributed to two causes, viz : the wash of the streets through the sewers, and the ashes and cinders thrown overboard by steamers, be fore reaching their wharves. The latter is surely preventible. — Have any wounded you with injuries ? Meet them with patience. Hasty words rankle the wound; soft language dresses it ; forgiveness cures it; and oblivion takes away the scar. 67