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l ™"' ,jj '- ■ .... T|*gr LJ BY J. A. TURNER.} VOLUME 11. INDEPENDENT PRESS, A Weekly Miscellaneous Journal, IVIU-UIIED IN EaTONTU V. G\.. AT $2. I*KK ANNUM, IN BY J . A. Tli U NER. A "qiuirc will consist of ten lines, but every a<!- Vertisement will be counted it square whether it reaches ten lines or not. Alt over ten lines and under twentv-one will be rounted two squares—all over twenty lines and un vler thirty-one, three spuares, «fee., Ate. RATES OF ADVERTISING. PEK SQUARE OF TEN LINKS. One insertion *1 00, and Fifty cents for each subse quent continuance. Advertisements sent without a specification of the number of insertions, will be published till forbid, and charged accordiiigly. Busiuess or Professional Cards, per year, where they do not exceed one square, - - slu ob A liberal amt met will be made iritji those who wish to a Jeer tie* by the year, e, wupyiny a specified space. lA}inl *ldverliscmcnts . Sales of Land and Negroes, by A ’m..nistrators, Executors, or Gttardiaus. arc requireo by law to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours of It) in the forenoon and 3 in the after noon, at the Court House in the County in which the property is situated. Notice of these sales must be given in a public gazette 40 days previous to the day of sale. Notices for the sale of personal property must be given in like manner 10 days previous to sale day. Notices to ttie debtors and creditors of un estate must be published 40 days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary, for leave to sell Land or Negroes, must be published two months. Citations for letters of Administration, Guardian ship. A must be published 3" days—for dismis sion from Administration, monthly, six months —for dismission from Guardianship, 40 days. Kules for foreclosure of Mortgage must be pub lished monthly, fur ft tr months—) for establishing lost papers, tor the full space of three months— for compelling titles from Executor.- or Administra tors, where bond ha- been given by tlie deceased, the full space of three months. Publications will always be continued according to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise ordered, at the following KATES: Citations on letter- of Administration, &c. £2 75 da do. Di-mis-o-y from Admistrution, 4 50 do. do. do. Guardianship, 300 Leave to sell Land or Negroes, 4 00 Notice to Debtor- and Creditors. 3 00 Saiic- of personal property, ten days. 1 square. 1 50 s*ie of Land or Negroes by Executors, j:e., •* 500 E-trays, two weeks, 1 50 For a man advertising bis wife, (in advance,) 5 00 Announcing candidates, 5 00 Large letters and cuts will be charged by the space they occupy. Letters "it bu-iness must be Post paid to entitle We have adopted the above rates from the Miiic igeviile papers, by which we will be governed i:u -a-es. Advertisers are requested to pay par ticular attention t" these rates, and they can make out what will be the cost of their advertisements as teg' Joh M’orA- of tiU kinds dene trith neatness and despatch. Professional & business Carils. Agency of the Bank ol Savannah. * i’FLY AT MV OFFICE. Ja::. Ist. 1865. J. A. TURNER. .J()lL\ A. \\ RIGIIT. RESIDENT DENTIST. EATONTON, GA. May 16, 1654. S. W. BRYAN, BOTANIC PHYSICIAN, EATONTON, GA. Office over Carter A Harvey*s store. I take tli if, method of iiiluruniie my trior!-* nil J the public generally, that 1 will pay particular attention to the treatment of all chronic diseases, ruch a-? Rheumatism, Dyspepsia, Liver complaint and Dropsy ; also diseases peculiar to females. The * ! w—s which has universally attended the Botanic practice, in all chrome complaints, is its best rec . , - on. b. W. BRA AN. M. D. Reference TRY’ HIM Eatonton, March 3rd, 1855. DR. LA WHENCE. I HAVE moved rnv office to the huildintr occu pied as a dnii: store bv Messrs. GRAN BILL A HARWELL, where 1 shall always be prepared to at tend rirufessjona.l calls. M. J. LAWRENCE, M. D. Jan. 13th, 1855. 2 ts W. A. DAVIS, hi /•' ,*. v ' ,*. \ 0 S ** . * r. ’>**l msl « »<* - at • XWAU b ills made with him are coMalered Cash, and pa ya>Ac when, called for with interest from date oj April 18, 1854. S. S. DESENBERRY, | F*isauo*\\ut #,je tjmmMjo /; 'A'iT'K warrant t<* pltuise nil who wiiih the latent j W style ot dress. Siioj> up stairs, over C. JJ. I’eurson’s store. April 18, 18.04. 1). I’EAIiSON, A ( 0.. WOULD Cull the attention of the public gen erally to their Large stock of Dry Goods, Fancy and Domestic, Groceries, Crockery, Hard ware, &o. Their Goods are all new, having been recently selected with great care in the New York and Philadelphia markets. They Hatter themselves they can give their customers as good bargains as can be bought in middle Georgia. Al so, call and examine our stock of ready-made Cloth ing. We will endea-vour to lit all in garments and in prices. ADAMS & BROTHERS, EJtTOJTTO.r, Cef., INVITE the attention of the citizens of Putnam and the adjoining counties, to their large stock ol dry goods and groceries, confident that they can p’ease them in style, quality and prices. Special attention will he given to all orders.— Cash paying customers willtindit decidedly to their interest to give us a call. April 18,1854. NEW G OT) I)S AT &' KROTtIEBtS . WE would bo pleased to exhibit, to the ladies and gentlemen of Putnam and the adjoin ing counties, our large stock of FAIL ftttd WINTER DRESS GOOD; complete in variety and style. v ADAMS & BROTHERS; Eatonton, Sept. 80,1854. ts & <sltcliln |o«nut(:-i|cl)otcli to fitcratnre, aitii derail Hlkcllaiii). professional N business <£urhs. DA VIS & WALKED EAToNTON, GA. nt.ALI.Ls in Groceries. Tobacco. Cigars. Snuff sdioe-. Hats. Drugs, Patent Medicines, Hard Iloliow and V'ood ware. Cutlery, Powder and Shot, ( atidlvs. Saps, t rwkery, Fine Liquors and M ines, and various otlierarticlcs. Cull and examine before purchasing cl-o\vhere. lWguinu can be hud. April Is, lst>4. iiif (BAlßiO* I TAKE this method of informing my friends . that anv business of a professional nature left in mv hands will meet with prompt attention. Jau. 13th, 1655. 2-ts J. A. TEENER hUl'J'g 1123. DR. J. G. GIBSON OFFERS his professional services to the people of Putnam County. Office next door to Ad am- A Brothers. Residence at the Parsonage, at one or the other of which places lie will always be found unless professionally engaged. Jan. ‘2otli, 1655. 3—ts iiorsE paixtTxg, In its Various Brunches, EXECUTED PROMPTLY AND WITH 7/ESPATCH. , ;;; HAVING a number of hands in connection Jti’ilL with me, 1 am prepared to do jobs not only in Putnam but in the adjoining ce nities. Any com mmiication from abroad will reach me through the Post Office here. lam also prepared to execute pa pering with neatness, and ongooiterms. April, 16, 1654. JEFFERSON WRIGHT. MARSHALL, MCKAt ITT & CO, MANUFACTURERS OF a CARRIAGES, ROCKAWAYS, >)- HUG IRS. Two-licrse Wagons, &c. EATONTON, GA. 1 VTE keep on hand articles »fthe above desevip ' V tion, fitted up in good style, ofditferent quali ties. of our own manufacture, which we are wil ling to -cli on reasonable terns, or any of them will be made to order, and upen short notice. Repairing will also be dene in the best and most approved style, on reasoruble terms, and up on short notice. MARSHALL, MKAVITT & CO. Eatonton, May 23, 1854. MI L LI NK R Y Agtit iDia-jusa ffiAaaiitaj, lionnefs, Caps, JfliUincry and fancy floods, Sir css Trimmings, n*/ 'ought Collett's, Under- Sleeves, Lace Veits , tie., &c., BY MRS. A. W. OSBORNE. Rooms at SIDNEY PKUDDEN’S. Jan 20, 1855. 3-ts i DR. R. B. NISBET /'AFFEKS his services to the people of I’utnani, in V / the practice of Medicine and Surgery. Can always be found at his office—at the old stand of Branham, Lawrence & Adams —or at his house (the late residence of Dr. R. Adams,) unless profession ally engaged. Jan. 20th, 1855. 3-ts To My Friends in Eatonton and Vicinity. H AVING sold out my entire interest in the prac tice of Medicine to Dr. R. B. Xisbct, 1 can most cordially recommend him to the public as a .-ale, prudent, and skillful physician. To those who may be. influenced by me, 1 will state that my ser vices can be had in conjuction with his, at any time, free of extra charge. ROBERT ADAMS. Jan. 20, 1854. ' 3-ts DR. J. R. GODKIN, H AVING located himself, permanently, at Mrs. Turner’s, Putnam County, again offers his services to the citizens in tha‘ vicinity. Putnam Cos., Jan. Ist, 1655. I—tr DR. BRANHAM. \T the earnest request of many of my old Friends and patrons I have determined to re main in Eatonton and continue the Practice of Med icine. I offer my services to the citizens of Eaton ton and Putnam county, and will uttem faithfully to my Profession. J will give special attention to obstetrical cases, and the diseases of women and children. Having had many years experience in the practice, 1 hope to get my share of patron age. My office i- in the house occupied by Win. A. Reid*, Esq., as a law office. Calls left there, or at mv residence will be attended to. JOEL BRANHAM. Jan. 13th, 1855. 2—ts "new siring goods. 11l lll) & IKJKGKRFORD, MONTICELLO, GA., 1) F.SPECTI'TLLY inform their patrons and the public that they are now receiving from New York, their lirst shipment of New Goods, (to which large additions will be made weekly,) and are prepared to exhibit an unrivalled stock in every department of rich and Fashionable Goods, adapted to the wants of the whole community. All of which are offered at low price*. March sth, 1855. 10—8 t EATONTON HOTEL. HAVING taken charge off he above hotel with a L determination to make it meofthe best hou ses in the country, 1 announce to my friends and the public generally that they may always Hud with me such accommodations us are’ desired by the boarding ami traveling community. All that con venience or comfort can suggest at the table or by way cf lodging shall be furnished you at moderate terms, ami 1 warrant that no man shall go awuv dissatisfied. Good lodging, attentive servants and a good table shaH always greet you with u cordial welcome to the Eatonton Hotel* Jan. Ist, 1855 [O7 tf] WM. O’BRIEN. LUMBER, LUMBER! - WK are prepared to furnish Lumber at the rc gulai market price, to \>ii,; One dollar per hundred leet. I- or extra lumber \t <■ will charge one dollar twenty-five cents. Iu no imtoncc will we un dertake bills it they are to be refused because not sawed by a specified time We will saw as fast as we can, and saw the bills.m the order in which they come in-flrstcome first served. We frequent ly lull m getting ears to take lumber off, and so.ne t ines after we have loaded the ears thev stand on the turn-out four or live days. Wo w ni clo our see Atsf to execute all orders sent to us promptly uudf faithtully, and we respectfully and eorifbleidiullv solicit a continuance of the ve'ry liberal patronage we are now enjoying. Persons living i. PuHmm will please pay postage on letters to us and nut them *^'2SBX tnm * Co - WhM^ Jan. 27, 1855. . . 4-ly I Ilj atonton Jl^uctovy. A % P oH : ons indebted t» the Eatonton Man fA; bvlmtefr olnplU f y ’ P revi V n » f° »he Year 18. m, by note or account, are uot : Hed that ut'iless they make payment before last return duv te, March superior Court, they will be indiscriminately sS, Feb, Brd, 1855, *' AgT. EATONTON, GA., SATURDAY, APRIL 7, 1855. '|li)ctrii. The Winds of March. BY FITZ GREENE HALI.ECK. The winds of March are bumming Their parting song, tlieir parting song, And Summer skies are coming, And days grow long, and days grow long. I watch, but not in gladness, Our garden tree, our garden tree; It buds, in sober sadness, Too soon for me, too soon for me. My second winter’s over, Alas! and I—alas ! and 1 Have no accepted lover: Don’t ask me why, don’t ask me why. ’Tis not asleep or idle That love lias been, that love has been: For many a happy bridal The year lias seen, the year has seen; I’ve done a bridesmaid’s duty, At three or four, at three or four ; My best bouquet bad beauty, It's donor more, it’s donor more. My second winter’s over, Alas! and I—alas! aud I Have no accepted lover: Don’t ask me why, don't ask me why. Ilis flowers my bosom shaded One sunny day, one sunny day ; The next they fled and faded, Beau and bouquet, beau and bouquet. In vain, at ball and parties, I’ve thrown my net, I've thrown my net; This waltzing, watching heart is Unehosen yet, unchosen yet. My second winter’s over, Alas! and I—alas! and I Have no accepted lover: Don’t ask me why, don’t ask me why. They tell me there’s no hurry, For Hymen’s ring, for Hymen’s ring; And I’m too young to marry: ’Tis no such thing, ’tis no such thing. The next spring tides will dash on, My eighteenth year, my eighteenth year; It puts me in a passion, Oh dear, oh dear! oh dear, oh dear! My second winter’s over, Alas I and I—alas! aud I Have no accepted lover : Don't ask me why, don't ask me why. |Ris«llattmis. A Blind Girl Feeling for a Sunbeam. In the annexed extract there is some thing beautiful, touching, and exquis itely sorrowful: The sun has just burst through the clouds and a heavy golden beam comes' in at our window. How bright and cheerful! It comes in so silently ; yet it speaks to the heart. Ages on ages it has illuminated and gladdened the world, yet we hardly think of the great world of light and beauty. Writing of sunshine brings to mind a touching incident which came under our observation as we were traveling in the cars. Opposite us were seated a family of four, consisting of a man and his wife and two little children— twins, and totally blind. Two love lier children we neversaw. The fam ily were from the south. A southern sun had tinged each cheek a rich olive complexion, relieved by a beautiful bloom*upon the children’s countenan ces. The boy was lightly built, had fine features, and hair of a dark brown, clustering in rich curls around his neck. The girl was yet more slender, as fragile as the leaf, and of the most spiritualized beauty. Her hair was black as night, its heavy, glossy tresses confined bvagolden b ind, which glit tered brightly upon the dark ground. They both seemed happy, conversing with an intelligence beyond their years. The train stopped for a moment upon the route. The windows were all raised, and the children leaning out as if to see. The little girl heaved a long sigh, arid leaned back in the seat ex claiming, “0 mother, I. cannot see any thing!” A tear trembled in her eye, and her voice was so sad and low, that it went to the heart of every passenger who heard the beautiful but unfortunate creature. “Neither can I see, Bel but I know every thing is beautiful, said her brother, as the light winds lifted the thin locks upon his cheeks. “ You are beautiful, are you not, Bell?” Just then a flood of sunshine gush ed from the white clouds in the west like a flash, and fell full and warm upon the cheek of the sad girl, and upon the tears in her eyes. Quick as thought she put up her hand, and at tempted to grasp the golden pencils that were playing through the thick braids upon her neck and cheek. Eagerly she shut her hand upon vacan cy, and a shadow fell upon her coun tenance as she failed to touch the sun shine. “Mother, I can not feel it ; has it fled out of the window ?’■ “What, Bell?” said her brother. “The sunshine, Marion, it touches my cheek, but I can not feel it.” The mother’s eyes swam in tears, as did those of nearly all in the car. A blind gfi-l feeling lor a sunbeam.on her cheek! That beam was radiant | with beauty, yet she could not be ] hold it. It gleamed upon a world, but | all was night to her. Its silver burst | ing in the east, or its golden fading in i the west, followed as day followed [ day ; but it burst not upon her vision j nor faded at decline of day. It glow ied in the sky, upon forest, field, and flower, and lake, and river; but not in the blue orbs of the sightless girl. Fencing Railways. The State of Illinois is the first which has adopted measures to fence in all railroads, in order to prevent cattle straying on the track. This we recommended years ago. We hope every State in our Union will soon follow in the so (tsteps of Illinois. The law passed by the Legislature of that State pro vides that every railway now in opera tion, or which shall be hereafter placed in operation, shall erect and maintain good and sufficient fences on the sides of their roads, with openings and gates at the farm-crossings, sufficient to pre vent cattle from getting on the road. And when such fences and guards are not erected and in good repair, the Company shall be liable for dam ages done by them to cattle which may get on the track, but if the fences and guards are erected and in good repair, they shall not be held liable unless the damage was wilfully done. Said fence need not be built through unoccupied lands lying at a greater distance than five miles from any settlement. Any person who shall lead, or ride, or drive any stock upoa such road, except at the crossings, or tear down the fences or guard thereof, shall be liable to a fine of not more than SIOO, and for all damages sustained thereby. [Scien tific A merican. Assassinations in Corsica. | Corsica must be a pleasant place to live in, especially to a man who dis agrees with his neighbors. A news-' paper editor particularly would find I himself at home, there—all the time. The following is extracted from a review of a book on Corsica, in the last London Quarterly : “Benevolent functionaries have ex hausted in vain all ende,ivors' to pro cure the reconciliation of families be tween whom a blood-feud of centu ries had existed. In one of these in stances an amiable Prefect had suc ceeded in bringing two together at a festival. It went off to all appearance well, but when the Prefect interroga ted a patriarch of the village as to his opinion of the result, the old man shook his head. They met again in the morning, and the old man’s face was cheerful. Itappeared that a fray had occurred on the return home of the guests, and that a young man had been shot, whose death exactly bal anced an account of mutual homicide. It has been found necessary to exempt a family from taxes, because an order had been issued by an influential ban dit that no rents should be paid them. This occurred in the town of Sartene, where the municipality was also for bidden to use as a town-h::ll a house belonging to the Quilichini, the family under ban. The authorities after full discussion obeyed. A French writer, from whom we learn some of these de tails, records another occurrence in which religious feeling plays its part, for it must be borne in mind that the Corsican is a sound and rigid Roman Catholic. A priest had been detected in betraying the confidence attached to his function, and the honor of a fam ily called for vengeance. The direct assassination of a priest was however not to be thought of. It was ascer tained that his guilty rendezvous was attained by a nocturnal ride along a narrow mule-track on the edge of a precipice. A mule was flayed, and the fresh skin, with the inner surface upwards, placed on a critical passage of the track. The priest’s mule, as was intended, lost its footing on the slip pery snare, and rider and mule were found dead together in the abyss be low. Our author’s first greeting upon landing on the quay of Bastia, was an account of a recent murder. Two days later in his morning walk on the ma rine parade of that city was arrested by the aspect of the guillotine. The ghastly spectacle is explained in the following dialogue:— ‘Who is to suffer?’ ‘The Braccia inozzo. The man with the lame arm. He is twenty-three years of age. The Sbirri have taken him in the mountains. He defended himself like a devil. The broke his arm for him. It has been cut off and lie is well. ‘What has he done !’ ‘Dio mio He has killed ten people.’ ‘Ten human lives 1 and from what motive?’ ‘From capriccio.’ But this instance is not to be put strictly to the account of the Vendet ta. The young criminal, without an injury to revenge, acted from the am bition, which has led English appren tices to emulate Machcatb and Jack Sheppard. lie had admired a famous bandit, and to qualify himself for sim ilar eminence, committed a murder and took to the macchio or bush. In a state of society like that of Corsica, the best qualities degenerate into the worst vices. The Vendetta is closely connected with the love of family, which in the Corsican is only equalled in intensity by that of country, and is especially conspicuous in the fraternal relation. The island poetry is for the most part a dirge, a song of grief and vengeance for one who has died of violence. The words are usually, put into the mouth of a sister, but even the widow in the climax of her grief often speaks of the departed as her brother. These female minstrels, and the female sex in general, have much to answer for in fostering and exas perating the spirit of relentless ven geance. The widow hangs up in the ancestral hall the clothes in which her husband fell, that her children may contemplate the rent of the knife or the perforation of the ball in the homespun brown cloth, or she sews a strip of the blood-stained linen into her son’s garment as a memento of his duty to the dead. It is thus that in Borneo the woman are the great obstacles to the noble efforts of Sir •Tames Brooke, and one of the best of God’s messengers on earth, the Rev. Mr. M’Dougall, for abolishing the strange practice of head-hunting. The plea of the young man, ‘How am I to get a wife?’ is difficult to answer. The most salutary operation of the Ven detta occurs when two bandits, stand ing under its relations to one another, take to the macchio in the same dis trict. The Scotch proverb, ‘Hawks will not pick out hawks’ een,’ is then reversed, and society is sometimes re lived on the homcepathic principle, similia similihus curantur. Junius and Cliatterton. A day or two since we noticed a lit tle book from Red field’s press, entitled Satire and the Satirists. As we then re marked, the author has by no means the highest critical power, though there are many pages of instructive discussion in the volume. We have been much pleased with portions of his strictures on Junius, notwithstand ing we do not altogether agree with him as to the rank to be conceded to that illustrious name. We give*a few passages below : Much admiration belongs justly to these elaborate Letters. Knowl edge of the world is to my mind the writer’s chief characteristic, rather than wisdom or nobleness of view. He knows how to produce effects; and is a lord of manner, making his bow, and planting his dagger-stroke with extreme tact. Thus, when he would bring himself into the king’s presence, he would deliver his senti ments ‘with dignity, but not without respect.’ ‘Without intending an in decent comparison,’says he, ‘I may ex press my opinion, that the Bible and Junius will be read when the com mentaries of the Jesuits are forgotten.’ Certain ensigns ‘infest our streets and dishonor our public places.’ In these cases we see the artfulness of the man, who studies to wound, with the air of a superior being. In serving up slan der and scandal, the same dramatic dignity is preserved ; he would have you believe that the mud he flings at you fell from heaven. Tnis theatrical side of the Junius character is very curious and peculiar, and makes him cut a figure half-Roman and half- French, and look like the ghost of Brutus uttering quotations from a lam poon. But whether you agree with him and respect him, or not, you will find him an entertaining and brilliant writer. His best things are-said when he is in his least stilted mood, and gives loose to his free comic vein ; as when he says of ,one man, ‘he has brought infamy even on the name of Luttrel, and exceeded his fathers most sanguine expectations.’ Ilis best epigrams are much in Sheridan’s manner; more like those of Richard Brinsley than any one I remember at this moment. When he rises to high flights of rhet oric, he preserves his good taste, and successfully hits your sense of the lofty and the exalted. But at no time has he depth of feeling, much warmth of heart, or humor, or tenderness, or gen erally, the genial qualities of men like Burke or Johnson, lie is essentially an opposition writer, and probably enjoyed the lashing of rogues and fools to a degree which made him tolerant of their existence. His form is as per fect almost as Pope’s, and both have been much imitated; but Junius’s style, being the expression of qf pecu liar disposition highly cultivated, can not be well imitated. His followers have aped the Roman “great manner,” as the supernumeraries might manage to ape Caesar in Shakspeare’s play. Strange as it may seem, poor young Chatterton* has imitated him as well as any body; and that feat must be ranked among the' astonishing evi dences of natural talent he gave du ring his brief and wonderful career. He came up from Bristol in his eigh teenth year, after having spent his early youth in the most pure and senti mental meditation on the old days—a blessed haven to retireto, outofan atmos phere of aldermen, blackguard school fellows, patronising pewterers, and a lawyer’s office ! He loved to lie on the grass, and gaze on the old church, and hear in fancy the vesper-bell ringing ; or to muse upon old church-processions; or to warm his imagination at the fire of antique heraldic gold and gules. He had shaped to himself, out of the dim past, one ecclesiastic figurCr’which he loved to endow with the qualities of his own heart and genius; and he saw in ‘Rowley’ embodied all that was goo I and high-aspiring in himself; embodied too in the old ckys, where he liked to wander into—out of the lawyer’s office. Ia an unlucky hour he started up to London; plunged into the vile atmosphere of anti-Bute, anti king politics; joined in the destruc tive element, fatal to peace and love, the wretched business of fighting, for which he was too young and too good. He left the side of Rowley (who was his good genius, the embodiment of what was positive in his nature, as op posed to his mere hate of cant and his sense of satire;) wrote songs for Vaux-hall, satires ala Churchill, let ters ala Junius; adopted the talk of coffee-houses, and courted the patron age of Lord Mayors; and passed some months in all that feverish element. He grasped with his young hands at the great fast-rolling vessel of London public life; was too weak to hold on; his grasp yielded, and broke; and he sank forever, and was lost in the wa ters. His ghost, with a laurel-crown, looks out at us in history, pale and sad. *Born 1752, died 1770. All tlio “Lives” of Cliatterton are indifferent enough. The best ac count of his career is that prefixed to the Cam bridge edition of some years since, in two vol umes. The English and the French. BY WASHINGTON IRVING. The French intellect is quick and active. It flashes its way into a sub ject with the rapidity of lightning; seizes upon a remote conclusion with a sudden bound’, and its deductions are almost intuitive. The English intel lect is less rapid, hut more persevering; less sudden, but more sure in its de ductions. The quickness arid mobili ty of the French enables them to find enjoyment in the mid;iplicity of sen sations. Alley speak and act more from immediate impressions than from re flection and meditation. They are, therefore, more social and communica tive ; more fond of society, and of places of public resort and amusement. An Englishman is more reflective in his hi bits. He lives in the world of his own thoughts, and seems more self existent and self-dependent. He loves the quiet of his ownNjpartmerit; even when abroad he in a manner makes a little solitude around him by his si lence and reserves; he qnoves about shy and solitary, and as it were, but toned up, body and soul. The French are great optimists; they seize upon every good as it flies, and revel in the passing pleasure. The Englishman is too apt to neglect the present good, in preparing against the possible evil. However adversities may lower, let the sun shine but for a moment, and forth shines the mercu rial Frenchman, in holiday spirits, gay as a butterfly, as though his sunshine were perpetual: but let the sun beam never so brightly, so that there be but a cloud in the horizon, the wary Eng lishman ventures forth distrustfully with his umbrella in his hand. A’lie Frenchman has a wonderful facility at turning small things to ad vantage. No one can be gay and lux urious on smaller means; no one re quires less expense to be happy. He practices a kind of gilding in nis style of living, and hammers out every guinea into a golden-leaf. The Eng lishman, on the contrary, is expen sive in his habits, and expensive in his enjoyments. He values every thing, whether useful or ornamental, by what it cost. He has no satisfaction in show unless it be solid and complete. Every thing goes with him by the square foot. Whatever display lie makes, the depth is sure to equal the surface. The Frenchman’s habitation, like himself, is open, cheerful, bustling, and noisy. He lives in a part of a great hotel, with wide portals, paved court, a spacious dirty staircase, and a family on every floor. All is clatter and chat ter. He is good-humored and talkative with hisservants,sociable with hisneigh bors, and complaisant to all the world. Anybody has access to him a'nd his apartments; his very bedroom is open to visitors, whatever may be its state of confusion ; and all this is not from any peculiar hospitable feeling, but from that communicative habit which predominates over his character. The Englishman, on the contrary, ensconces himself in a snug brick mansion, which he has all to himself; locks the front door; puts broken bot tles along the walls, and spring-guns and man-traps in his gardens ; shrouds himself with trees and window-cur tains ; exults in his quiet and.privacy, and seems disposed to keep out noise, daylight arid company. His house, like himself, has a reserved, inhospita ble exterior ; yet who ever gains ad mittance is apt to find a warm .fireside within. The French excel in wit; the Eng lish in humor, the French have gayer j rmcr bb«. sms 9 l $ 2 - 00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. .NUMBER 14. fancy, the English richer imaginations. The former are full of sensibility, easi ly moved, and proned to sudden and great excitement; but their excite ment is not durable ; the English are more phlegmatic; not so readily af fected; but capable of being aroused to great enthusiasm. The faults of these opposite temperaments are, that the vivacity of the French is apt to sparkle up and be frothy, the gravity of the English to settle down and grow muddy. When the two char acters can be mixed in a medium, the h rench kept from effervescence and the English from stagnation, both will be found excellent. This contrast of character may also be noticed in the great concerns of the two nations. The ardent Frenchman is all for military renown • fights for glory, that is to say, for success in arms. For, provided the national flag be victorious, he cares little about the ex pense, the injustice, or the inutility of the war. It is wonderful how the poorest Frenchman will revel on a triumphant bulletin; great victory is meat- and drink to him ; and at the sight of a military sovereign bringing home captured standards, he throws up his greasy cap in the air, and is ready to jump out of his wooden shoes for joy. John Bull, on the contrary, is a rea soning, considerate person. If he does wrong, it is in the most reasonable way imaginable, lie fights because the good of the world requires it. lie is a moral person, and makes war upon his neighbor for the maintenance of peace and good order, and sound prin ciples. He is a money making person age, and fights for the prosperity of commerce and manufactures. Thus the two nations have been fighting, time out of mind, for glory and good. The French, in pursuit of glory, have had their capital twice taken; and John, iu pursuit of good, has run him self over head and ears in debt. [ Wofert's Boost. A French Editor’s Room. A book has lately been published is Paris called Paris in Little , from which we extract the following de j scription of the working office of a ' Paris editor ; it is not altogether un like the room <T a New York editor : The editor and writers generally assemble in the morning. The first business is to read all the daily and foreign papers. These journals are spread upon an immense green table. They include the French, the English, the German, the Spanish, the Italian, the Asiatic, the African, and the American papers. You must know that a paper is made out of twenty others, from which facts are gleaned, and that the less the editor hrs in his own box the more is cut from his co ternporarics. Up to this time the as sembly has enjoyed a certain far ni • erte. Some are lying upon the divan, others are making jokes, telling anec dotes, or reading wondering circum stances aloud. All are fond of smo king, more or less. One, however, armed with a gigantic pair of scissors, begins to make immense gaps in the Paris papers, the provincial papers, and the foreign parers. Many of these papers, when they fall from his hands, may be compared with the old flags of A usterlitz, pierced with balls. And this deviation leads us to the de scription of our first type, viz., the cutter —this great machine in the of fice of a journal. The cutter, as his name imports, is charged with the du ty of extracting from the mass of jour nals all facts which appear to him to be new or interesting. He is called a pair of intellectual scissors. His duty is to paste his extracts upon sheets of paper. They appear as “ news of tho day, ”or “ Paris news. ” The wafer— that powerful contributor—plays an important part in* his life. Others write—he pastes. Le*: it not be imag ined that the cutter is a man easily found ; a good cutter is quite as rare as a good tailor. It is a profession which descends from father to son. Families of cutters are said to trace their first ancestral cutters to the conspira cy of the Cxnq Mars. Do you imag ine that it docs nA require much edit cation to hit upon the exact fact of in terest to the subscriber or the reader ? Definition of the Sublime, “ What, then, is the Sublime ? I answer — It is'the Infinite revealing it self in—not before, not after, but IN the Annihilation of the Finite .” The author of this definition is a Mr. Goddard, who, in some lectures at Boston, by which he attempts the an nihilation of Milton, is revealing some thing that most people prefer to con ceal. Poverty. Few things in this world trouble people more than poverty : and in deed it is a sore affliction ; but like all other “ills that flesh is heir to ” it has its antidote, its reliable rem edy. The judicious application of in dustry, prudence and temperance. The velocity of a musket ball is, on an average, 1, 600 feet per second, and its range half a male.