BY G. SANDERSON $. B. CQRNMAN.]
VOOTiaS 26; NO 48;
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POETRY.
TO ISABEL— ~&ia**/ieare.
The weather is exceedingly, hot,-
The sky exceedingly bl'iie,
Oh; tcll'mc; lovely Isabel,
What shall I, shall I do?;
I can’t keep cool—l court the breeze,
Hut oh! the breeze is coy—•
And like.thyself, disdains to come
And HJI my heart with joy.
I slept in ice last night,
But when I awoke at day,
I floated in a tepid bath,
- And thought Td run away!,
Do what I will, I can’t keep cool,
I’m roasted and done browji—
And I shall soon evaporate
Unless 1 leave the town.
1 he bricks are hot, the pavements hot,
The side-walks hotter still— r
Oh! fora cooling country breeze
Upon n country hill—
Oh, for the green and-dewy turf.
The fountain'dancing free.
Where I might sit and poetize.
My Isabel, with thee.
Nny, smile not <jn my sun-burnt brow,
Alas! it cannot smile again, s
If not the wretchcclest, I am
The sultriest of men;
Oh ! for a shower-bath of tears,
Pray shed them Isabel,
Hut if you do, just,recollect;
• My -I ive, to iretliem wtil.
From the United■ States Gazette.
IMPORTANT DECISION
A case of an interesting character to lantl
lottls anti tenants, was decided at the last
session of the Supreme Court of Pennsylva
nia. J .
The plaintiff had been a lodger in a.house,-
let as a boarding house, in which he occu
pied two rooms, furnished with his own fur
niture, of the usual amount and character,
and in which he took breakfast and-tea; din
ing elsewhere.; —For -these accommodations,
he paid a stated sum per week. The, tenant,
his landlady, failing to pay her rent on the
day appointed, her landlord distrained ’ the'
plaintiff’s furniture, to recover which, this
suit was brought. The question ."whether
the goods of a Boarder in a boarding house
are liable for thetenant's rent, ,, . was accord
ingly brought directly before Court for deci
sion, The District Court, (in which the suit
was brought) having decided.the question in
the landlord’s favor, the matter was. remo
ved. to the Supreme. Court, where, after hav-
ing been fully argued by Mr. Hazelhurst
and Holcomb for the plaintiff;, and S.- Per
. kins for the, defendant;, the opinion of the
„. District Court wasveversed, and the ques
tion settled in fevor of, the plaintiff, anda
gainst the right of a landlord thujs to distrain
the effects'of a boarder in his, tenant’s house.
J The Chief Justice, in deliverihg the‘opin
ion of the Court,'declared that this case fell
withih a principle already established; that
for the benefit.of trade, a thing put, upon
•_ rented premises by a customer in die way of
tenant’s business, is privileged from distress;
and'after proving, in opposition to the state
ments of spme text-writers, that the ground
of this exemption..was, in, all cases public
convenience _and 'policy, he, sheweif that
there was no’ difference in this respect be
tween -the present case and any of those in
which the exemption was .admitted, and’
more especially, between the case of an Inn,
where confessedly the goods of a guest are
• hot subjecMo, distress. (or the'tenant’s rent.
The tone oftheopinion, which was of
some length, Was restrictive of the right of
distress', arid the effect of the decision will
Me, tnMcrcase the security, with which an
. individual .may: occupy premises rented by
aether,, by rendering Aim.independent, of
improvidence or.irregularity of the .pefr
sori under "whose roof he • chdneea to be h
boarder; '
There are sald to-be 130,000,000 acres of
land unlocated in Tesaa. ■>
\n i] iu cm
Exhactfrom “The Far PFcst,”
THE 3MIISSXSSXFPZ.
It is Surely no misnomer that this giant
stream has been styled the .“etdrnal river,”
the “terrible Mississippi;”* for we may find
none other imbbdying so many elements of
the fearful and subliibe. In the wild rice
lakes of the frozen north, amid a solitude
broken only by a shrill clang of the myriad'
water-fowls, is its home. Gushing out from
its fountains clear as the air-bell, if sparkles
over the white pebbly sand-beds, and break
ing over the beautiful falls of the" “Laughing
Wafer,”? it.takes up its majestic inarch to i
the distant deep. Rolling on through the |
shades of magnificent forests, and hoary,
castellated cliffs, and beautiful meadows, its
volume is swollen as it advances, until it!
receives to its bosom a tributary, a rival, a j
conqueror, which has roamed three thous-1
nnd iniles for the meeting, and its original
features are lost forever. Its beauty isj
merged-in sublimity! Pouring along in its
deep bed the.heapcd-up wafers of streams
which drain the broadest valley on the globe;
sweeping onward in a boilingjiiass, furious,
turbid, always dangerous; fearingaway, from
time to time, its deep banks, with their giant
colonnades of living verduc, and then, with
the stern despotism of a conquerer, flinging
them aside again; governed by no principle
but its own lawless,will, the dark majesty
of its features summons tip an*emotion of
the sublime which defies contrast or paral
lel. Anti then, when we think of its far,
lonely course, jbOVneying onward in proud, I
dread, solitary "grandeur, through forests j
dusk With the lapse of centuries, pouring
out the ice and snows ofaratic lands through
every temperature of fclime, Jill at last >it
heaves free itsmighty bosom beneath the
line, we are forced to yield up ourselvcs.in
uncontrolled admiration of itStgloomy mag
nificence. And its dark, mysterious history,
too; those fearful scenes of which it has, a
lone, been the witness; the venerable tombs,
of a race departed which shadow its waters;
(he savage tribes that yet roam its forests;
the germes of civilization expanding upon
its borders; and the deep solitudes, untrod
den by man, through which it rolls, all con
spire tb .throng the fancy. Ages on ages
and cycles upon cycles have rolled away; I
wave alter wave liave swept the broad fields
of the Old Water; a hundred generations 1
have arisen from the cradle and flourished
in their freshness, and, like autumn leaflets,
have withered lathe tomb; and the Pharaohs
.and, the Ptolcmys, the Cassars.and the Ca
lifs, have thundered over the nations and
passed away; and.here; amid these "terrible
solitudes, in the stern majesty of loneliness,
a'nd power, and pride, have rolled onward
these deep waters to their destiny!
“Who gave you your invulnerable life,
Vour Strength, your speed, your fury and j our
joy?
God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations.
Answer!”
There is, perhaps, no • stream which pre
sents a greater variety of features Ilian the
Mississippi, Or phenomena of deep interest.
Whether we regard the soil, productions, and
climate of its valleys, its individual charac
ter and (hat of tributaries, or the outline of
its scenery and course. The confluents of
this, vast stream arc numerous, and each one
brings a tribute of the soil through which it
has roamed. The Missouri pours out'its
waters heavily charged with the marl of the
Rocky mountains, the saffron sands Of the
Yellow Stone,, and the chalk of the- White
river; the Ohio holds in its floods the vegeta
ble mouldof the Alleghanies, ,and Red riv
ers bring in the deep-died alluvion of their
banks. Each tributary mingles the spoils of
its native, Inlls'with the general flood. And
yet, after the contributions of so many
streams, the remarkable fact is observed
that its brpaijth'and volume seem rather di
minished-,than increased. Above the em
bouchure of the Missouri, fifteen hundred
miles from the MexicarTgulf, it is broader
than at New Orleans, with scarce One-tenth
.its wafer; and at the foot of. St. Anthony’s
Falls its breadth is b.iit one-third less. This
fonns a striking characteristic of the west
ern rivers, "and owes, perhaps, its origin par
tially to the turbid, character of their waters:
as they approach their outlet they augment
in volume, and depth, and impetuosity of
current, but contract their expanse. None,
however,,exhibit these features so strikingly
as the grainf central stream; and while,.for
its body yf wafer, it is the narrowest stream,
known,: it is,charged, with heavier solutions
and has broader alluvians than any other.—
T(ie depth of the stream is constantly vary
ing!, , At New Orleans it exceeds one hun
dred feet. Its width is fromhalf ofonemile
tp two the brcadth.of Us valley from
six miles tosixty; the rapidity of its, current
from tivo miles to four; its meari descent six
inches,in a;mile, and its annual floods vary
from twelve feet to'sixty, commencing in
'larch and ending in May. Thusiiiuch for
statistics. " ’ : :„T
Nelowits confluence with this turbid fri
butary, the Mississippi;! as has been observ
ed» is no longer the..price, limpid: stream;
gushing forth from the wroatby snowsefthe
northwest; but it whirls along ,against its
ragged -banks a restless volume of heavy,
sweeping, floods,: and . its aspect, of placul
magniheenco is. beheld no more. The tur
bid torrents , heaves onward, wavering from,
side to side, like allying creature, as if, to
overleapitsbpundsj-rplling alonginadeep
cut race-path, through fife great expanse of
lowland, meadow, from whose exhaustleas
*AnameofAlEonnuinri'igin—-W/ss/signlfy
'PfiKfeat, ansa'ehe, a river.: '
tlntiian nkme lof the “Fallsof St, Anthony.”
“ NOT HOUND TO SWEAR IN THE WORDS OP ANY MASTER.” Horace.
CARLISLE, Pa, THURSDAY, JUNE 13. 1839.
mould are reared aloft those enormous shafts
shrouded in the fresh emerald of their tas
selled'parasites, for which its alluvial hot
j toms are so famous. And set the valley of
the “endless river” cannot be deemed heav
ily timbered when contrasted with the forest
ed hills of the Ohio. The sycamore, the
elm, the cypress, and other frees of decidu
ous foliage, may attain a greater diameter,
but the huge trunks are more spare and
more issolatcd in recurrence.
But one of the most striking phenomina
of the Mississippi, in common with all the
western rivers, and one which distinguishes
(hem from those which disembogue their wa
ters into the Atlantic, is the uniformity of
its mcandcrings. The river, in its onward
course, makes a semicircular sweep almost
with the precision of a conipass, and then is
precipitated diagonally athwart its, channel
to a curve of equal j-cgularity upon the 'op--
posite shore. The'deepest channel and most
rapid current is.said to.cxist ip the bend;
and thus the stream generally infringes up
on the bend-side, and throws up a sand-bar
on ihc_ shore opposite. So constantly do
these, sinnositics recur, that there are : said
to be but three reaches of any extent between
the confluence of the Ohio and the gulf, and
so uniform that the boatmen and Indians
have been accustomed to estimate their pro
gress by the number of bends.rather thar/by
(he number of miles. One of the sweeps of
the Missouri is said to include a distance of
forty miles in its curve, and a circuit of half
thajt distance is not uncommon. ■ Sometimes
a V cvl-off in (he parlance of the watermen,
is produced at'thcsebetids, where the stream,
in its headlong course, has burst-through the
narrow neck of the peninsula, around which
it olicc circled. At a- point, called (jle
"Grand Cut-off,” steamers now pass through
an isthmus of less (Kan one mile, where for
merly was required a cifcuil of twenty.—
The current, in its more furious stages,.'of
ten tears up islands from (he bed of the riv
er, removes sandbars and points, and sweeps
oft’whole acres of alluvion with their super
incumbent forests. In (he season of flood
the settlers, in their log-cabins, along the
banks, are often startled from their sleep by
(he-deep, sullen crash of a “landslip,” as
such removals are called
The scenery of Mississippi, below its con
fluence with the Missouri, is, as Jins been
remarked, too sublime for beauty; and yet
there is not a little of the picturesque in the
views which meet the eye along the banks.
Towns and settlements of' greater or less
extent appear- nt .frequent intervals; and
then the lowly log-hut of the pionepr Is not
to be passed without'notice, standing beneath
the tall, branchless columns of the [girdled'
forcst-trcss, with its luxuriant maize-fields
sweeping away in the.rear. One of these
humble habitations of the wilderness we
reached, 1 remember, one evening near twi
light; and'while our boat was delayed at the
woodyard, I strolled up from the shore to
the gateway, and entered easily into confa
bulation with a pretty, slatternly-looking
female, with a mushroom, flakened-haired
urchin at her apron-string, and an infant at
the breast very quietly receiving his supper.
On inquiry 1. learned that eighteen years
had seen the good woman a, denizen of the
wilderness; that all the responsibilities ap
pertained unto herself, and that her “man”
was proprietor of some thousand acres of
bottom in the vicinity; Subsequently I was
informed that the woyth .woodcutter could be
valued at . not less than one hundred thou
sand ! yet, in verite, reader mine, I do as
severate that my latent sympathies were not
slightly roused at the first introduction, be
cause of the seeming poverty of the dirty
cabin and its dirtier mistress!
Prom the National Intelligencer,
STATE OF EUROPE-—NEXT CENSUS
OF THE UNITED STATES.
“If we were to say that nearly'' tlie svhole of
Great Britain and Ireland, and the continent of
Europe, are at this moment closely bordering on
a singuinary revolution,'.l should be saying noth
ing but the t'rnth.” - ——'
[ London Cor, of Rational Intelligencer,
“M r, Adams, according‘to the newspapers,
said in the house of Representatives: " A mem.
ber has spoken'of conskqukscks: ir the evkk+
of war, if it were a war of'principle and jus
tice, consequences are seconaaru, ■ ‘
, »■ [Cor, ofthe Ac to York. American.
"There are many persona who would not
simply 1 shrink with dread, but disgust, from
the consequences of doctrines they .are led
to uphold, could they be made to anticipate
the consequences of reducing their creeds to
practice. One of the most dangerous symp
toms of constitutional disorder in society,
on both sides, of the Atlantic;: is, that, in
opposition to principles, cohsequences,are not
only of secondary, but of no consequence .—
In the abstract so ought we to reason,'provi
ded we clearly discern what is principles,
and can rationally assure ourselves'of. salu
tary results.- But, how*fearful must be ttffe.
prospect of fujure times, when an imjhehae
number of persons conceive they are in duty
bound to take-oh themselves, and impose oh
other?,: the responsibility of consequences!
Did such personal wait to consider how com
pletely they-throw themselves .into .the net
of designing-demagogues, they .would pause!
It is not yet veryjong since ajafge share 6JT
Europe was an aceldama, from men cbntendr
ing that, they. were obeying The decrees of
Heaven;''antr acting under duties above all
human laws. What has been acted may be
imitated, and blood and ruin follow the
footsteps of men dishing forward regardless
of consequences.
Buft’ quitting these reflpctiohs, let us; for
a moment glance on Europe-—on that part of
the earth which holds the destinies ,of the
voirafTEEß.
nations within and. without its limits.
Europe may he subdivided.into the active
and passive nations, with the exception of
Russia, partaking, as occasion serves, of
both characters. In activity, Great Britain
and France stand pre-eminent:Tmthe passive
class, Austria sustains her character of cen
turies.,: On the three southern peninsulas of
Europe, Spain torn by civil war, arid.Portu
fal of little consequence in general policy;
faly, direct or indirect, under the influence
of Austria; and Greece, a kingdom in name,
anarchy in fact. In northern Europe, Swe
den and Denmark, .respectable as nations
for their scale of intelligence, but political
ly monarchies, which in any great crisis,
must be moved by the impulse or attractions
of large masses. Prussia, in many respects
the most perfect government which was ev
ef formed oh earth, the first which made in
tellectual improvement 'a fundamental part
of state policy, but which, from position and
the. alliance of their royal lamilics, must
yield to Russian influence. The German
Scales, witlrpeople highly improved and
civilized, and far more prone to peace than
war, yet often forced into,' and when so in
volved, terrible in war. '
Austria, holding a position which renders’
her the . vanguard towards Russia, : strong,
even, powerful, when called into action in
conflict with the Western States of Europe
or on the southward with Turkey; but, from
thfeir common Sclavonic population, feebly
opposed to Russia. No other European
monarchy lias so much power, however, to
act as peacemaker as Austria. The policy
ofher Government, at least since the treaty
of Hubertsbcrg, ( 1763,) has been peace;
though involved in the wars 6f-the Freed
revolution, and in the end a gainer by treat;
ies, her ancient policy has been since renew
ed. Austria is, in our idea, a despotism;
but it must be confessed to be the mildest
of all despotisms. And another most hon
orable distinction is due to Austria; ho oth
er nation has ever appeared on our planet
with a tribe of her physical force, which has
encroached so little on contiguous States.
France now, as at distant periods' since
the age of Charlemagne, contains the most
inflamablc elements tosetEurope—the world
oh fire. AVith all the parchments covered
with diplomatic limits, the Rhine and the
eastern border of the Swiss cantons is also
the true eastern border of France. In that
generous, gallant, and brave nation, there
are toq;niany who regard military glory the
supreme good. It betrays ignorance of their
national character to say that tW Erciivt
£?"*. f‘ lr war opted with
.ouis Phillippe. A character’Wnsplcubus’
-under Clovis, Charlemagne, Philip Augus
tus, in the Crusades, under Louis XIV, arid
through and since their riwii Revolution, lies
deeper based than politicians are .able or
willing to admit. In real power, France
has changed Uie least of any existing State
in Europe during the last.two centuries.—
Called into activity —and less is needed to
produce such an eflcct in France than in any
other nation of the Caucasian world—then
is shcfelt like a well-pointed and two edged
sword. '
After the close of -the American Revolu-
tion, Europe gradually, but France & Great
Britain particularly, contained all the in
flammatory elements of revolution, arid from
every feature of the times, it was the cast of
a die which nation was to undergo the fiery
or(leal. "France look the lead arid Britain
thealarm; and how, at the end of fifty years,
the attitudes' of the two nations are not es
sentially different. In 'both nations, much
ofvague,.undefined, but dangerous views of
(he present and future are indulged. On
which soil the .volcano will burst remains in
the \yomb of Time. Taken apart—Great
Britain, holding the extremes of the Eastern'
continent; mistress, of Indostap, extending
her power in Afghanistan, -Persia, and Tar
tary, whilst her writers, and even her legis
lators, are abusing Russia for encroachments
on Turkey; seizingßreshire in Persia, and
Aden in Arabia, whilst accusing Russia of
instigating the Schah of Persia to besiege
Herat, a city on the table-land of Asia: with
the most extended commerce and manufac
turing power ever United in the hands ofthe
same people; holding the, fine northwestern
archipelago of Europe as her seat of science,
population, wealth, and grandeur; unequal
led colonies in Asia, Africa, the' West In
dies, and in South and North America—no
other nation had ever so much to risk in war,
and yet she threatens Russia, nh'dTier Tory
party, the United States.'
Russia, seated with her back to the frpzen
and inaccessible regions of the north; de
pendent Sweden on her right, and the inter
minable Asia bn her left; agitated Europe in
front, with her .i-ight foot on Turkey and
left on Persia, and, in fine, her never-closed
eyes on the whole earth—whatjother nation
can expect to gain by war with such a Pow
cr—a Power ruling,- direct or indirect; over
at least one Jiundred millions of people, with
an army of eight hundred thousand Men;
and, according to British authority; the third,'
if not the second, most efficient fleet bn
earth? Interrogate the past, ahd it will an
swer by pointing to the names of Charles
■XII and Napoleon;i±wiUpbint,!onthe maps
of Europe and. Asia, to Sweden, Poland,
Turkey, Persia, and Siberia, and trace the
lines of-Russian marches oyer Germany in
to Italy;’Switzerland, and France. 1 We
have paragraph-writers in. the United States
anticipating a successful, war on thb .part of
Great Britain against Russia. Can there be
a sane-minded, wellrinforrttfed person oh
either side of the Atlantic who sincerely
wishes the Russian mass put in motion?—>
The first cannon fired in such a war must he
the to the Turkish empire. Let
Britain beware, and let us look well to our
own household. ■ --
In the ensuing year, the sixth.decennial
enumeration or Census is to be taken in. the
United States; In some every
census of the population of the U, States
produces a-revolution;'a' - peaceable revolu
tion, true, -but a change in the balance of
power- But the next census must-show a
change of more consequence than that pro
duced by any previous enumeration. - Uppn
the most rigid analysis of progressive popu
lation, the Atlantic and interior numbers
will be equalized about 1843 or 1844; and,
at the- census of 1840—Ml, the aggregate
ought to. be about seventeen millions, eight
in the central sections and nine along the
Atlantic slope.
We frequently see, and often hear of per
sons in all the. fulness of wordly prosperity
committing suicide. The writer of this ar
ticle has witnessed more than one such mel
ancholy circumstance, and is not altogether
without fear of living to see his country in
fljcting on itself such a calamity; Parties,
shouting princ.iplc while feckless of conse
quences, are ready-made instruments of na
tional suicide. “Time,” says a profound
French philosopher, "destroys every thing
made without his assistance.” In ourcoun
try, most profound contempt of time, past or
to come, has been expressed, even in our
legislative halls. What time promises to
do, and which no powfer without the aid of
time ever did do, is expected amongst;,us to
be reared, like th£‘ tower of Babel, to the
heavens, and above all- the deluges to which
the .moral as well as physical world is sub
ject. We may thus build, until stopped in
our aspiring plans’by, if not confusion of
tongucs, a conflict of interests.
To conclude in seriousness, the most
splendid destiny ever offered to any portion
of mankind lies before' the Anglo-Saxon po
pulation of North America, unless it is mar- !
ried by national folly, by a rejection of those
principles on which alone public prosperity
ever jias and ever must rest. Union and -a 1
judicious cultivation of our immense re
sources can place us amongst the most hap- 1
py and morally influential national associa- :
tions which ever rose Ob earth. 1
THE THREE SHARPERS
AN ARABIAN TALE.
A peasant was conducting a goat to Bag
dad; he was mounted on a mule, and the goat
1 Mlo™ s mik » holt hung to his neck.—
. Three young bncksdbservii.u ««, v,r
’ them proposed-an even bet that he would
take the goat without the countryman’s
knowledge notwithstanding the tinkling of
the bell. “ Done, ” said the second, “ and
at the same tjme I will lay you a wager that
I will steal from the fellow the mule he rides
upon without exciting his suspicion.”—
“That must be-a-difficult task, indeed,”
observed the third; but if you Will double the
stakes, I will engage to take from him all
the clothes upon his back, arid "lilifry'them
off withbut Ink trying to hinder me!” These
proposals being mutually agreed to, the first
commenced his task; which was to steal the
goat. Having dexterously loosened the fast-,
ening to the bell he slipped it from the goat’s
neck and tied it to the mule’s-tail, and made
off with -the goat undiscovered. The peas
ant hearing the tinkling of the bell never
doubted-that the goat followed. However,
happening to look behind him sometime after,
he was strangely surprised at missing the lit
tle animal, which he was to sell at market.
He now made inquify of every passenger in
hopes of hearing of his strayed : goat; at last,
the second sharper accosted him; and-told
him lie had just seen a man make down the
next" lane precipitatelyj dragging a goat by
the- hind-legs. Tlie peasant,thinking he
could run faster than the mule could carry
him, instantly dismounted, and requested
the young felldiv to hold his mule, while he
set off at full speed in pursuit of the thief.—
After exhausting himself in running without
getting sight of the man or the goat, he re
turned omte spent.and almost breathless; to
thank the stranger for taking care of his
mule, when to add to bis misfortune, behold
his mule and keeper were vanished. -
The rogues had gained a
secure -retreat, and were triumphing over
their associate, while he waited for the coun
tryman at the side of a well, in that part of (
the read he knew he mtist pass. Here he
sent forth his lamentable cries,'and made
such bitter, wailings, that the peasant was
touched with commiseration as he approach!
cd liira, and reflecting on his, misfortunes,,
found himself disposed to listen to the afflic
tions of others, as he appeared to be over
whelmed with grief. he thus addressed liim:
“how can you take ;pri sb piteously? surely
your misfortunes are hot so. great as mine:
I have just lost two aniinals, the value of
whith is more than half niy'-subs,twice; my
mule : and my goat might in time Have made
my “A. fine loss truly,” said the
nian at the well, to be compared with mine!,
you have nbt.like me, let fall into this well,
a casket of diamonds 'delivered, into' my
hands, and entrusted to my care and discre
tion,tobe;carried;totheCailiph:ofßagdad;
no doubt I shall be hanged for mynegligence;
which wjll be called an .excuse , for having
clandestinely sold them.” Why don’t you
dive to the bottom of the well, and fetch up
your treasure; 5 ,’ said the peasant; “,I know
it is notdeep.” ;, “Alas,”said the sharper,
• “1 am qui.te awkward at diving* and had
rather rim the risk of being hanged; than
meet inevitable death by. drowning; but if
any one who knows the’ well better flipn hie,
would undertake kind office upon rfepoy-
[AT TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM.
NEW SERIES--VOXi. 3, NO 52
firing the jewels.Twould give hlin ten pie
ces of gold.” • 1 ’
. The unwary dupe poured biit his pious e
jaculations .in gratitude to Mahomet for
haying thrown in his .way the means of re
pairing the loss.of his mule and his- goat;—
“ Promise me, ” said ho, in an ecstncv, "ten
pieces, and I will recover your casket. ”’—;
The sharper agreed, and the countryman
stripped himself and jumped with, such alac
rity into_ the well that the sharper saw he
had no time to lose, and immediately took
to his heels with the clothes. The poor
peasant felt all round, the bottom of the well,
to no purpose, and, then raising him to the
brink to take breath, and recover strength
for a second attempt, he found, that the
stranger had decamped tviih his dpparcl.—
Grown wise too late by woful experience,
he returned home by many a lonely path to
conceal his shame; and relating his talc to
his affectionate wife, the only consolation he
received from, her was, " thatTrom the king
upon the throne, to the shepherd upon the
plains, two thirds of the human race owed
the greatest.part of. .the Vexations of life to
imprudent confidences. The next day he
not only receiyell back both his animals and
his clothes, .but in one of the pockets he
found the full sum he so much coveted, td
wit: ten pieces of gold.- .
From JTenrick’a Silk Grower’s Guide.
SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF SILK
.... SIANUFACTtUVES. —'
• The cultivation of silk commenced iri
China 700 years before, Abraham, and 2700
before Christ. The Emperor Hoang-ti “(he
Emperor..of .the Earth.” who reigned over
China more than 100 years, and whose name
is rendered immortal for his noble ahd use
ful deeds —he who taught the Chinese ti/'
construct houses, ships, mills, carts, and
other works of usefulness, tie also persua
ded his first consort Si-ling-chvlo bestow
her attention on silk worms, it being his
earnest desire that his empress also might
contribute to the Welfare of the empire.—
Aided by die women of her household, the
empress Si-ling-chi gathered the silk worms
from the trees, and introduced them into the
imperial apartments. Thus sheltered and
protected, and abundantly supplied with the
leaves of the mulberry, they yielded silk
superior in quality, to that produced in, the.
forests. ‘She also taught them,its’manufac
ture, and to embroider. .
Silk and its manufacture, and tl® Weaving,,
continued to be the principle occupation of
the succeeding empresses; apartments bding
especially-appropriated' to this purpose,- in
the imperial palacepind ,Soon from the high
est rank of females, it became-the occupation
of all ranks in China; and ere long the Erii
;peror, the learned class, the princes, the
mandarins and Courtiers, and all the rich
were attired in- the splendid fabrics of silk,
until finally, silk became the inexhaustible,
resource of the wealth of Chinn,;
/At Rome and so late as,A;I). 280,. a silk
attire of purple, was accounted by an Empe
ror as a luxury too expensive even for an
Empress,.and that empress his wife, Seve
ra;_its value being equal, to that of gold, by
weight. Others there were at Rome, and
enough even at that Uayj who were by nd
means thus Scrupulous in regard to price.—
But it was not until long after the-seat of the
Roman Empire had been transferred to By
zantium of‘Constantinople, that the distinct
and more perfect knowledge of the nature
and origin of silk became known, and the
mystery of the long sought "golden fleece, ’’
was revealed to Europe. , ‘
The whole value of the.silks manufactu
red annually in France, in 1835, amounted
by computation to Ho.ooo,ooo,francs, and
it was estimated iriEurope, that in. that year
silks to the amount of 50,000,000. francs
were exported from that country to the Uni-,
ted States alone;
Yet in France, although they raise so much
sillf, they still i mport annually to the amount
of 43,000,000 francs of -raw silk, or nearly
one third of all.they consume, for the supply
pf their manufactures..
In England the climate;: from jits humidity
or other causes, is found'td tie unsuiled to
■fts,,growth;, for-this rcasonddohe, the trials
to raise it there have failed.' Yet.from. 1821
to 1828, according to. n late aild
tic work, on the silk trade, .they imported of
raw silk, 24,157,568 pounds;, worth. sll2o,r‘
077,580. Of this a'mouhi 350,881,283'came
front Italy alone, .
At the present day;.the silks which were
Consumed in great Britain alone; so late as,
1835, amountcd to the enormous, sum Of
$28,282,582 annually, at the wholesale'jiH
ces, besides the whole amount, of all they
exported. —r- -■ . - '
Prom the ffarrisburg Jte/jorl'ef'.
* SERENADE.
Let me but see thee, on'ce more, rfiy love;
Let me but bear thee, once more; my jove;
Let. me but breathe the tender tale,
Ueneatb the summer’s cvching ycil. ..
The (lowers are blooming bright,;my love*
Sw.eei.are-breathingtheflnwcrji myjoye.
The silver moon beams bright,-my love,
Anilcttlrois our try string bowct.
Tliencome wUhme.Jbcn come with me/,
' Joyous wcU gaze on tliedarlc blue sea ; I.'
And then, as wafts the sorithern gale/"'• i; :■
Tll-breathe to thee the tehd'ertale.
Let me buf sec thee love,- v
Letmebiit heafthceoncemore.my love,-’
,Ohl Jet us meftj : and meet’forever.
BY THOMAS D. M*KL\vicK;
I