3142 2 vinIVZIODCI4OI
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[From the New York Mirror.]
Fame.
- ;ins a child—had gathered not
The wisdom ?fa' longer life, r :
ti The
far away had been my lot
;:4,1 from all , the stirring Scenes of - strife.
oft I heard the noise of war
other lands and climes afar
And learriedaf fame bravo` men had won
led the strong in battle on,
013 sought beside a foe as brave
The glory of a soldier's grave !
wasa child when first I learned
o dream of glory and of fame ;
And then awhile my head was turned
To hope-and struggle for a name !
I thirsted in my youthful heart
For fame that never would depart ;
.legged a name which.men might love
70 list and learn the story of;
And glory that would never die t
Till perished earth„ and sea, and sky !
My dreams were of the battle ground,
I saw the ranks of foeman come;
I heard the bugle's:thril ling sound
And the loud thunder of the drum.
I heard• the tramp of man and horse,
The onset of contending force;
I saw the warrior fall and die,
And heard the victor's battle cry ;
And vowed to be whilst dreaming then,
A. hero in the midst of,,men !
Some years are gone, and I am now
No More the child that I have been,
But in the pathway oft he plough,
What I may get of fame I win !
This I have learned, that to my hand,
Is given the lab.Ot of the)ad ;
)1c foot must tread the furrrowed ground,
And stand when harvest time comes round;
. me is given the laborer's care, •
la autumn, mine the laborer's shale.
I seek not now the warrior's fame,
I covet honor with the good,
And not with him whose fearful name
Is written in a foemlin's blood!
Let roe be known as one whose hand
Huth brought a blessing to his land ;
Whose heart is filled with somothing more
Than longings for the golden ore; •
T'ho'se strife hath been not all in vain,
folove man more than'gold and gain.
And what is this which I have sought,
With others, that the world calls fame?
}lath it to the needy brought
Food and raiment When it.camel
No: those who justly are the pride
Of nations, whose good fame and wide,
Whose deathlesi words have borne witlks9ng
A country's name and fame along,
Though honored as the mighty dead,.
Have lived in ragti,ind wanted bread
And such is fame, to toil and live
Through hours of hope find Yeats of dread,
Waiting, for honor men will give
When we have been for ages dead!
70 live unknown and struggle on
Till courap, - htpe, and life are gone;
And whilst the marble guards our bed,
'Sleep with the broken hearted dead !
This is the glory of a name,
. All man may reap of earthly fame !
NOr more a child, I have marked out
A pathway.in the land of song,
Where I may wrestle with old Doubt
- Power, persecution, and rank wrong.
Illave a purpose to o'erthrown
Xin g Custom's laws of long ago ;
To shun no peril, fear no strife!
To rush in earnest into life.
And drive the whirlwind and the storm
Whose wings are laden with reform !
1
The Three Meetings.
They met in paSsionate embrace,
And young love's warm caress,
And hand in hand was fondly clasped,
And lip to lip was pressed,
And vows of innocence and love
Were softly whispered too.
And sealed with kissesipure as drops
Of freshly fallen dew. •
They - met in friendship's holiness,
With gentle word and smile,.
'And eye met eye with meaning glance
Of kindness the while ;
And tho' no passion stirred the heart;
The memory of the past
Still o'er their kindred souls a shade
Of tenderness had cast.
They met again—the serpent too,
Her heirt at last had wiled,
She passed as tho' she knew him not,
He turned away and smiled !
'Twas the lasi ripple of the stream,
As the cold ice-kistr's breath
fltemmed the swift current of its life
And locked it up in death.
&11 ,
I ' i e 4 0
7 ; /- 101 rar
The Jew with two Heads.
An Illustration of Life in Con-
staptinople in IS4O.
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH, FOR
THE LONDON JOURNAL.
There lived at Constantinople a poor
old tailor, who was an excellent Mus-
Batman, scrupulously performing his
five ablutions a day, a good observer of
the Ramadhan, and who regularly kept
himself, from_ morning till night, in a
narrow stall, which he dignified by the
-name of shop, and who for more than
twenty years had incessantly occupied
himself in mending old clothes. His
prophet had not even once sent fortune
to visit him, nor had an opportunity
even been granted him of proving his
talent in making -a new suit of clothes.
With his business, he joined an almost
titular one of bell ringer to a mosque,
situated near his abode. It is well
known, that the residences of Turkish
shopkeepers-are always separated from
their shops, which forms part of a
bazaar. One day, while Hussein the
tailor was seated in his shop, counting
his wooden beads and waiting for cus
tomers, he remarked a well-dressed
man, who was walking slowly along
the bazaar, passing and re-passing be
fore his shop, and who appeared to him
as if waiting the moment he could en
ter without being observed. Hussein
was not wrong in his conjectures, not
withstanding the individual appeared to
him a personage of too high a rank to
need his humble services. Great was
then, his surprise, when, on entering
the stranger demanded if he Thought
himself capable of making a complete
suit of clothes to the pattern of a model
which he would give him. At this
flattering proposition, the tailor felt
himself transported to' the third heaven,
and as he had a vast opinion of his own
abilities, he immediately assured the
stranger that he would not regret having
addressed himself to him, and he would
perfom what he demanded as well as
the most able tailor of Stamboul.
"It is well," answered the strange'
" but you must come yourself to get
the model I have spoken of." "Imme
diately, if you wish it," " Now, be
here when the clock strikes the mid
night hour, and I will then come to
conduct you, where it is necessary to
go." " Your wish shall be obeyed."
"That is not all you must consent to
have your eyes bandaged." At this
second proposition poor Hussein trem
pled with fear, but the unknown threw
on the counter three pieces of gold, and
continued :—" Twenty other pieces of
gold shall be your recompense when
the work is done, and, by Mahon:let !
you shall have nothing to fear."
The sight of the gold, and the pros
pect of a considerable sum in addition,
produced on the good tailor the same
effect it always does on a Turk, and,
need we add, as it does but too often
also on a Christian. "Allah Kerim !"
said Hussein between his teeth, and
then promised to be exact in waiting
for the stranger at the specified time.—
After this interview the tailor went to
see his wife, to whom he recounted his
adventure, withoul concealing from her
the conditions which fortune had im
posed on him. His wife, who felt
much interested at his recital, used all
her persuasions in .cencouraging him in
his nocturnal enterprise.
At the promised midnight hour the
stranger was at the shop of the tailor,
where the latter was anxiously await
ing him. The former then placed a
bandage over Hussein's eyes, and giv
ing him his arm to guide him, conduc
ted the tailor along the streets, and for
two tedious hours Hussein was unable
to form the slightest idea as to where he
was leading him.
,At length his guide halted, and di
rected him to kneel ; when, removing
the bandage, and ordering him to wait
a little white, left him by one of four
doors which the room he had entered
contained. The moment Hussein re
covered his sight, he found himself in
a splendid saloon. Never could he
have imagined a magnificence equal to
that : which now Surrounded him. Im
mense mirrors encased ! with golden
frames, silks of the most costly nature,
displayed themselves to his eyes, while
the whole saloon was illuminated by
splendid girmdoles and lustre.
Hussein, kneeling in the midst of this
splendor, on a carpet of the richest de
sign,had not yet recovered from his salon
ishmeift, 'when he beheld the door open
by which his guide had disappeared,
and a man of majestic appearance, in
the bloom of ofyouth,entered the room,
as equally remarkable for his beauty as
for the richness of kis dress. This
Regardless of Denunciation from any Quarter .- Go v. I I
.-.- OUTER
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splendid personage bore a packet en
veloped in -a cashmere of the most
beautiful texture ; which partly unfold
ing, he, displayed to the trembling tailor
the pattern which the cashmere con
tained, together with the rich stuffs ne
cessary to make a similar one, saying,
that he gave him five days to achieve
his work. Unfolding the packet . , and
throwing it on the ground a few paces
from where Hussein remained still
kneeling, immovable as a statue, the
splendid looking personage left the sa
loon, and immediately afterwards the
guide re-appeared, who immediately
replaced ; the bandage over the eyes of
the tailor, forcing under his arm the
packet which the latter had not dared
to touch, so great was his awe and as
tonishment. The guide re-conducted
the tailor oat of the saloon. When they
had entered the bazaar, the guide with
drew the bandage from Hussein's eyes,
and recommended him to apply him
self diligently to the work which had
been confided to him. After adding
that he woad - crime hithself to receive
it, and begging him not to mention lug
good fortune to any one, he left the
tailor to his own reflection.
It was autumn—the fourth hour of
day had scarcely struck, so that three
hours would yet elapse before_the rising
of the pun. Hussein thought it was too
early to instal himself in his shop; he
therefore directed his way towards his
humble abode, where he found his wife
anxiously waiting• for his return. He
recounted to her the extraordinary
things he had seen, but scarcely giving
him time to conclude his relation, she
seized the packet that she-might gratify
her curiosity in beholding the beautiful
stuffs it contained. Seating herself.
she first minutely examined the beauti
ful cashmere. With an exclamation of
delight she then unloosed its knots,
when a cry of terror broke from her
when she threw the packet to the
ground. Hussein, at the cry, rushed
towards his wife, and by the feeble
light of a solitary candle beheld a hu
man head rolling on the floor. His
terror equalled if not surpassed that of
his wife.
When the terror-stricken pair had
partly regained their self-possession,
they lost themselves in conjectures on
such an extraordinary event. For a
long time did they hold counsel together
to find out some expedition to prevent
their ruin.
"By Ali we are saved," at length
exclaimed the wife. " Only yesterday
that upstart of a baker, our neighbor,
refused to give me credit,, but he shall
now pay for it. Give me the tin dish
we bake meat in, and let me arrange the
matter."
The tailor brought the dish to her,
wherein she placed the head, and cover
ing it over went out.
Hussein, alarmed at the events of the
morning. awaited his wife's return
with anxiety. A quarter of an hour
had scarcely elapsed when she re-ap
peared.,"
" All goes well," she exclaimed on
entering " make yourself perfectly
easy. You may now go to the mosque
to ring the bells as usual, so that nobody
might suspect anything."
We will now see what has become
of the head. The wife of the tailor,
well acquainted with the habits of the
baker, was aware that every morning,
while his oven was heating, to took a
stroll out with his dog, while his son
did not rise until his father had left the
house. so that the shop remained with
out any one in it for a short time. She
therefore seized this moment to place
her baking dish among others filled with
meat, which the neighbors had left for
baking. When the baker returned
from'his walk, he found his son waiting
for him on the steps of the door, with
out suspecting anything. Suddenly
the dog rushed with extraordinary en
ergy against the tailor's dish : the baker
surprised, lifted up its cover. Had Sa
tan presented himself to his view, he
could not have been more startled ; for
he beheld two large Clack eyes staring
at him. which struck him speechless.
Astonished at this sudden emotion of
his•father, and the barking of the dog,
the son approached to see what the
dish contained, when he was seized
with a fright equal to that of his father.
Being, however, the first to recover his
self-possession, he began to reflect on
the best means to be employed of get
ting rid Of this terrible head. Follow
ing the'example of the tailor's wife, he
determined to pass it over to a neighbor.
To execute this - determination, it was
necessary that his father should assist
him ; and the following was the plan
pursued :
At the turning of the street in which
the baker resided, there stood a barber's
shop, and it was to him the head was
destined. As a pretext, the baker first
went to the barber with an invitation to
take a walk with him, while the son
followed his father a little distance, car
rying the head under his mantle, anu
entered the shop, the moment the bar
ber and ~his father had left it. On the
chair where the barber's custifters
were wont to seat themselve, he placed
a piece of wood of the size of a human
body, , ,on which he planted the head,
and tied a shaving cloth over the wood
which he had enveloped in an old frock.
On returning. the barber. casting his
eyes on the figure, thought he was a
customer awaiting him.
i‘ You are very early," he exclaim
ed.
Findi g that no answer was returned,
he co tinned : Ah lah ! I see now,
he is dumb."
With this exclamation, he prepared
the necessary articles, and placed him
self, secundum art em, to commence his
shaving operation. At the first touch
of the hand, the head lost its equilibrium,
and fell rolling to a corner of the shop.
Astonished at this, so unexpected an
event, the barbar, though terrified at
the moment, was less so than the tailor.
After a short time spent in consideration,
he took up the head and commenced to
examine it. By a small tuft of hair
that grew on its crown, he recognized
it as belonging to a Mussulman, which
stimulated him to the same desire as
that of its preceding possessors—that
of promptly getting rid of it. Placing,
therefore, the head under his mantle,
he bent his way towards an eating house,
kept by a Greek, who lived a few doors
from him, and where he often went to
take his meals.
" Landlord," he exclaimed, on en
tering, "as this day is not of fasting,
prepare me a good piece of Masted
mutton and a dish of rice."
After giving this order, the barber
strode into the back shop to light his
pipe, when seizing an opportunity, he
hid the head under a quantity of pieces
of meat that were piled on the table,
and then left the room. A few mo
ments after, the master, in preparing to
arrange the meat for cooking, discover
ed the head. His astonishment and
fear were even greater than the preced
ing head bearers, and situation even
more critical than theirs. If ahead was
discovered at his house, there was no
doubt, in his.quality of a Christian, he
would at once be impaled. A prey to
the most violent fears, and in a state al,,
most bordering on madness, he seized`,
the head, and rushed forth from his
house into the streets, ran as if a demon
was pursuing him. Luckily it was not
yet day. Fate conducted him to the
quarter of the Jews, where he arrived
out of breath. While running along in
haste he struck himself against some
object, and looked at what thus impeded
his path, he recognized by a faint
gleam of light, the dead body of a man,
the head of which was separated from
the trunk, and placed between the legs.
Such is still the ignoble mode reserved
for the decapitated Jews, the Moan
mans enjoying the honor of having
head placed under the right arm until
the body is interred. Without con
sidering that no man, not even a jew
can be possessed of two heads, the poor
fellow seized, what he thought, a fa
vorable opportunity of getting rid of his
terrible by placing it close to and in the
same position as the other head, and
then quietly returned to his home.
Day now began to appear in the nar
row streets of Constantinople. The
Jews, aware that one of their number
had been decapitated the preceding
evening before their residences, did not
dare to go out, but viewed from their
windows with astonishment the sight
of the to heads. At the same time
the Mussulmans, whie commenced pas
sing along the streets, beheld them, al
so, with similar wbutler ; and soon an
immense crowd collected, which com
pletely obstructed the passage of the
street. At the report of this tumult. a
body of Janisaries was seen to advance
to establish order; but, oh shame !
they beheld the head Of a Mussulman,
lying =nest to that of a Jew. ‘, The
Israelite dogs have committed this sac
rilege- Down with the cursed race !"
resounded on all aides. In a moment
they rushed into the Jew's houses, and
commenced burning and pillaging all
they were enabled to lay hold of ; but
their vengeance increased to a still
greater degree, when, on examining the
head, they recognized it to be that of
their favorite aga. Their rage now
knew no bounds ; and several bodies
of the same corps arriving to join their
comrades, a formidable revolt menaced
the whole city. when the tumult at
length reached the ears of the sultan.—
His grand vizer and principal officers
were immediately on the spot, and up
on the Janissaries being promised in
hie name that justice should be rendered
to them, they were with much difficul
ty persuaded to retire to their quarters.
At the first news of the tumult, the
sultan divided its cause, and despatch
ed the tailor's guide, who was no other
than a faithful slave, to inquire of Hus
sein what he had done with the head
that he had borne to his house the pre
ceding night. The tailor immediately
related how his wife had taken it to the
baker. The slave then applied to the
latter, where he learnt the manner in
which he had passed it on the barber;
and the latter, in his turn, owned the
way he had disposed of it; and, lastly
the Greek recounted how he had Placed
it by the side of the Jew's head.
Upon the report of the slave, the sul
tan wished to have the different parts
of the story related to him personally
by those who had been actors therein
The tailor and his. wife, the baker and
his son, the barber and the Greek, were
I all summoned into his presence, and
after each had given his relation, were,
with the exception of the Greek, dis
missed with rich presents, in testimony
of his satisfaction at their ingenuity.—
The unfortunate Greek was sewn up
into a sack and thrown into the Bos
phorus, to punish him fur his audacity
in placing the head of a Mussulman near
that of a Jew.
As to the head of the aga, it had been
struck off by order of the sultan, in
consequence of the great influence this
officer exercised over•tbe Janissaries.—
Many times had the order been given
to that effect without, being executed ;
and this time, to make sure of obedi
ence, he had commanded the. head of
the aga to be brought into his presence,
and to prevent the discovery of his de
capitation, Hussein had been thus con
ducted by the night of the sultan, and
the head of the aga placed in the pack
et delivered to the former. Fate or
dained the rest.
Swearing.
Whatever fortune may be made by
perjury, I believe there never was a man
who made ajortune by common swear : ,
ing. It often happens that men pay
for swearing, but it seldom happens
that they are paid for it. It is not
easy to perceive what honor or credit is
connected with it. Does any man re
ceive promotion because he is a notable
blusterer ? Or is any man advanced in
dignity because he is expert at profane
swearing ? Low must be the character
which such impertinence will exalt ; high
must he the character which such im
pettinence will not degrade. Inexcusa
ble, therefore,Must be the practice which
has neither reason nor passion to support
it. The drunkard has his cups, the
lecher his mistress, the satirist his re
venge, the ambitious man his preferments
—the miser his gold, but the common
swearer has nothing ; he is a • fool at
large, sells his soul for nought, and
drudges in the services of the dtvd gra
tis. Swearing is void of all plea ; it is
not the native offspring of the soul, not
ittiuwoven with, the texture of the body;
nor anyhow allied to our frame. For,
as Tillotson expressed it, though some
men pour out oaths as though they were
natural, yet no man was ever born of a
swearing constitution." But it is a cus
tom, a low and paltry custom, picked
np by law and paltry spirits who have
no sense of honor, no regard for decency
but are to substitute some rhapsody of
nonsense to supply the vacancy of good
sense. Hence the silliness of the prac
tice can only be equalled by the silliness
of those who adopt it. b
RATTIER FUNNY.--The Louisville
Journal tells a story which is a good
one, whether it "be manufactured or
genuine. Among the persons who
called on Mr. Polk whilst he was at
Louisville, was a German who got
roughly handled in a political fight at
the November election. On his being
introduced, Mr. Polk for lack of some
thing to say, asked him how he did.—
" Oh," said he, turning the back of his
head towards the President elect, and
rubbing it, " l'se only so so, mine head
isn't cel yet."
SAXON LADIES.—The ladies of Saxo
ny are models of industry—at all times,
and under all circumstances, they are
either knitting, or employed at needle
work. At a court the implements of
industry are indispensable. At Dres
den,, even the theatres are not protected
against stocking wares. A writer says :
's I have seen a lady lay down her work,
wipe away the tears with the sorrows
of Thekla, in Wallenstien's death, had
brought into her eves, and immediately
resume her work."
Eal:t 11to tlh, 1Z10C1D219%1 at CPUVcr
Signing of the Declaration of Independence.
Of (the noble patriots who signed the
Declaration of Independence, 9 were
born in Massachusetts ; 8 in Virginia ; 5
in Maryland ; 4 in Connecticut ;,4 in
New Jersey ; 4 in Pennsylvania; 4 in
South Carolina ; 3 in i Delaware ; 2 in R.
Island ; 1 in Maine ; 3 in Ireland ; 2 in
England ; 2in Scotland, and 1 in Wales.
Twenty-one were attornies, 10 mer
chants, 4 physicians, 3 farniers. 1 cler
gyman, 1 printer, and 16 men of fortune.
Eight were graduates of Harvard Col
lege, 4 of Yale, 3 of New Jersey, 2 of
Philadelphia, 2 of William and Mary, 3
of Cambridge, (Eng.,) 2 of Edinburg,
and 1 of St. Homer.
At the times of their death, 5 were
over 90 years of age ; 7 between 80 and
90 ; 11 between 70 and 80 ; 12 between
60 and 70 ; 11 between 50 and 60 ; 7
between 40 and 50 ; one died at the age
of 27 ; the age of two is uncertain.
A t the time of signing the Declaration,
[ the average age of the members was 44
years. They lived to the average
,age
of more than 65 years and ten months.
The youngest member was ;
Rutlege, of South Carolina, vilio was in
his*27th year. He lived to the age of
51. The next youngest member was
Thomas Lynch of the 'same state, who
was also in his 27th year. He was cast
away at seain the fall of 1776.
Benjamin Franklin was the oldest
member. He was in his 71st year
when he signed the Declaration. He
Jived to 1790 ar,d survived 16 of his
younger brethren. Stephen Hopkins of
Rhode Island, and the next oldest mem
ber, was born in 1707, and died 1778.
Charles Carroll attained the greatest
age, dying in his 96th year. William
Ellery, of Rhode Island, died in his 93
year ; and John Adams in his 91st.
Cold "Water.
The Boston Social Reformer, in an
article relative to the virtues of cold
water, has the subjoined paragraph,
which will be found not only worth
reading but well worth remembering
by all to whom bodily health is an ob
ject
" From one to five pounds of decay
ed animal matter pass off daily, by in
sensible perspiration from a human bo
dy. The. white dust which collects on
the skin, sometimes called goose flesh,
is refused matter of the system. If the
pores of the skin are closed and imper
ceptible perspiration is stopped ; this
corrupt matter is thrown upon the
lungs, liver, or intestines, causing colds,
consumption, fevers, &c. &c.
"The remedy is to be found in the
specific that will restore the system to
its proper balance, upon the natural
avenues. for the discharge of poisonous
secretions, and relieve the internal or
gans from burdensome clogs that are
thrown upon them.
Cold water -has been proved to be
this remedy in a pre-eminent degree.—
It is nature's own remedy. And no
thing but its simplicity, its commonness,
and the almost universal hydrophobia
which prevails, could' have kept its
virtues so long concealed."
MORAL AFFECTIONS.---HOW sweet
are the affections of social kindness ;
how balmy the influence of that regard
which dwells around our fireside !
Distrust and doubt darken not the
brightness of its purity—the carpings
of interest and jealousy mar not the har
mony of the scene. Parental kindness
and filial affection blossom there in all
the freshness of an eternal spring. It
matters not if the world is cold—if the
selfishness and injustice of mankind re
turn our warm sympathies coldly, if
we can turn to our dear circles. and
ask and receive all that our heart claimr.
The exchange of kindly affections, in
confidence and trust, is the purest en
joyment of nature.
SETTLE up.—The editor of a country
paper says he wishes it distinctly un
derstood, that he will receive wheat,
buckwheat, pancakes, corn, oats, sugar,
bacon, lard, almanacs, hoes, tallo,
Sherman's Lozenges, boots, little shoes
and stockings; turnips, rakes, wood,
and, indeed all other kinds of produce,
except promises in payment for his
papers.
WoNEN vs. Mgx.—Some leather
headed scamp describes woman as a
sign on which .to hang dry goods."—
The ladies can retort by describing such
slanderers as blocks upon which'tailors
exhibit their skill.
SENTrstENT.—The following toast
was drank in a circle of the colored
fashionable!, in the city of New York :
Toast.—" To de colored fair sec—
Dar face needs no paint. dar hair no
Ninety. (3 ; 000 tremenehmf cheers.)
Sfeo 41:6a