Ui» -\cit.il. APHAYER J'OH HLMUMRRANCL T.. .hr und lx* inrirnt!' IVlth fho v.illpvh h*t >i. n*s I’lnreU «n lh<* frozen heart which thfnbheo With JhJtlCeful joi nf oi 1l»v« for mir inonrn»‘n fragile ftoim> Wilh Mahuv't* u-ar-drup» fruuuiu. While wild hlrd« clmut a rooulem— Oh, sad aQd mournful thought To die nnd be finrroH'"- Wien th« heart u yetiup ami warn. F.re U has felt the rbillint Ma-m Of TATth’d cold. IdlpWlnu Mump To feel tho supple Jinit'* tffvw slif. The warm Up 4 turn t° And all the hope- of other year* v,. s«mn n '.wTiht Oh. m» "h Uo not quin loffp IlTieu ".ire* the irnt*- »bm The iDonnd that marks my rating Til'* olio v«*n used !«• no UuV u»t when the \,i*t snt*h t>f «M>np Flour* forth hj-dit and In*. Not when Mirth ♦ inmdi-d g«nMe«* nd'-'ii- Mould 1 teiui labored Ik. Tint wh*n the t'vHjj'ht hmr Fling* 'round multi'hing *|*U, And far o'«r full and wtnnl amt van King* out the vesper bell* Then rronoand nit be*idr mr grave. And lot the bluiblnji hoir Avrufeen kindly thoughts of mo With it* wiuYoutraucuig j*owc. yiirtfuunbrTUuui, rtf Aseent of Bioant Ararat No mountain has a name so famous as Ara rat. To the Jewish and the Christian races Ji is a type ana a symbol, the second birth place of humanity. There rested the ark ; thither flew the dove wilh the olive branch. And to this nour, reared in stupendous bulk at a point where three empires meet —Russia, Persia, and Turttey—it is an object of pilgrim age and wonae.. The great ridge crowned by Ararat rises from a plain about three thousand feet above the level of me sea, Great Ararat, on the north west, and little Ararat on the south east stand like giants of the hills, about seven mites apart, with an elevated table land be tween men.. The loftiest summit is 17,320 feet auove the level of the sea. and 11,300 feel above that of the A raxes, an important river of Armenia, while the principal cone is not less than 6,000 feet in height. Its outline is more smooth and domelike than that of the Aips, but the eliect is very majestic, upwards of 3.000 test in vertical, or a sloping ascent of three mites, ucmg covered with eternal snow, icc, and glaciers, forming what is called the Silver Crest of Ararat. Theie is a second summit, little lower, at a distance of about 400 yards, joined to the highest by a flat de pression. On the north side the mountain is deeply cut by a vast chasm, ascending almost to the summit, and so black and gloomy that it can be distinguished from the bright slopes ad joining at a distance of more than thirty miles, in a valley upon the plain, near this dreary rift, was once situated the village of Arguri, upwards of 5,000 feel above the plain, with nearly two thousand inhabitants. Con siderably above it, on a lawn-like terrace, stood an ancient monastery Fifteen years have passed since monastery and village dis appeared. Mount Ararat was convulsed to its foundation by an earthquake, which caused the whole plain of Armenia to tremble. Pro digious masses of ice and snow, earth and rock, shaken from the dim and distant sum milk, came thundering down, sweeping away the monastery, burying the village, with nearly all the villagers, and swallowing up a tribe of poor wandering Kurds who had pitched their tents near at hand. All at once the bosom of the mountain seemed to be rent as by some gieatngonv of nature, and fivers of .water came down like a deluge, sweeping «wky (he ruins, and bursting upon the plain to » flood eighty feet deep and seven miles wide. Only the common hare dwells upon these formidable slopes, many a beau tiful bird finds its habitation among the pop lars and willows and walnut trees of Ararat, which flourish at an elevation of 0,000 feet, stunted birches 1,800 feet high, and a few glittering wild flowers 10,000 feet above the sec Among the credulous nations of the East it has been believed that human beings were divinely prohibited from attempting to scale the frozen heights of Ararat. Even in Europe (he ascent was long considered as impossible, though we believe that the recent successful expedition of Major Stuart and his friends was not the first. Professor Parrot of Dor pat, ascended, if we mistake not, to the sum mit in October, 1823 ; and M. Abich, the Russian traveller, ia said to have performed (he same feat without much difficulty, in Jan uary, 1845. He certainty reached within 1,900 feet of the (op, but his complete ascent ia disputed. However, on the 11th of last July, Major Allck Fraser, Major Robert Stuart, the Rev. W. Thursby, Mr, J, Theobold, and Mr. J. Evans, started from Bayazid, in Turkish Ar menia, ten miles from Ararat, with the design ol ascending the mountain. They had with them two servants and an Ottoman officer, were recommended to the protection of the Kurds, and being provided wiih stoat poles, hooked at one end and pointed at the other, had little to apprehend from robbers, or from the difficulties of the route. Crossing the plain they began the oscent, through a ravine sloping upwards, and walled on both sides with vast ridges of volcanic rock. For three hours the route lay through similar defiles, occasionally varied by bright little table lands, on which were corn and bar ley, rustling and ripe, to tempt the sure fooled little horses as they picked their way along. They were now about 8,000 feet above the sea, hnd a welcome sight presented ilseif.-*- Thei’e wat an open pasture, doited with tents of Mack goat’s hair, and Kurdish chiefs and shepherds were at the doors, with ready hos pitaiily inviting the strangers in, A floor, Covered with brilliant carpels, a fat sheep roasted, milk, and pure spring water, formed a pleasant change from the long tramp pver a rislpg rocky ground, and the parly spent (he night in this home of pastoral sim plicity. ’■ Next morning all were early on foot, but Mr. Tti'ureby bad broken down, and was tbo ill to proceed, |3onbr be to him, however, be made the attempt. It would hive been madness for any one not in good health to have climbed the next slagd oil thpt Evep the bihers separated. Major Fraser, not being accustomed to snow, turned 1 off to the south east, that he might keefi lo a line of tocjft ; while Major Stuart with his two corb, panions.'advaboed plbng the fro*Cp slopes straight on. Major Stuart sajrs i “To piy friends, who ate experienced I\l pme climbers, this was easy work, but it soon began to tell unfavoratßy op my uunccus. THE COBB, STURROCK & CO., YOL. 3. AGITATOR. “THE AGITATION OF THOUGHT IS THE BEGZNNINU OF WISDOM."' WELLSBOROEGH, TIOGA COEETY* PA., T lomod limbs. For a lime we kept pretty well together; by degrees, however, Mr. Theo bold began to forge ahead, followed by Mr. Evans, while 1 brought up the rear as well os I could. But my strength was fast: giving way, and when about half way up the cone 1 found myself utterly unable to proceed any farther. Accordingly, there being no alter native but to descend, 1 sat on the snow and shot down with (he velocity of an arrow, undoing in a few minutes the laborious tail of nearly three hours. This was a keen dis appointment, amply repaid to me however, as will appear by-and-liy. At ihe ftJot of (he cone I found Isaak Bey, who with a couple of his people had come out to watch our progress, fie looked on my failure ns a matter of course, and seemed to think the others, 100, must soon give in ; but no, up they went, higher and higher, his interest and surprise keeping pace with their ascent." The Sandhillers. There he stayed, watching his more suc cessful friends, the keen, naked eye of the Turkish chief following their movements ns accurately as Major Stuart could follow them with his telescope. In about eleven hours from thautime of starling, Mr. Theobald had toiled up to the hoary pinnacle of Ararat.— Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the barbaric patriarch. .“In the name of the Merciful I” he exclaimed, “God is great! What wonderful people these English are I a few of them come here, and without any diffi culty walk to the top of that holy mountain, a thing that never was done by man before. Wonderful! wonderful!” About an hour afterwards, Mr. Evanaalao reached the ascent, both returning by the same track, and reaching the tents at sunset. Meanwhile, Major Fraser, keeping to his path of stone which led up about two thirds of the way, was at last comoellethOo Jgke to the snow, and, plodding 'patiently on, was much exhilarated by perceiving that he was within a few hundred feet of the summit. Here, in attempting (says (he narrator) to cross over to what appeared a more practicable line, he stepped on some thinly covered ice, and, losing all control over himself, shot down, with fearfal irelocity, now head, now foremost, over a space of about a thousand feet. By extraordinary exertions and presence of mind he succeeded, at length, in arresting his formi dable progress, and, gaining his> feet,‘deter mined to start again. By dint of immense labor, the summit was reached about half-past three, three full hours having been lost by the accident. Major Fruser was careful to search out the traces of his predecessor's path, and to return by the way that had been cho -BCO by Mcatr*. Thuobold anti KvDD3, Upon the third day. Major Stuart and Mr: Thuriby—the one not daunted by hismis'hip or the other by his indisposition—determined to perform their part in the expedition. They ttarted at two in the afternoon, two Kurds ac companying them with rugs, great coats, and a small supply of provisions, but a third of the way up they were obliged to dismiss these attendants, who, from religions scruples re fused to proceed further, or to pass the night on the mountain. The Englishmen, there fore, proceeded alone over a rocky surface, from which the wind had blown away the snow, and encamped about half way up, with a pile of stones to shelter them, rugs envel oping their bodies, and a hearty dinner to pre pare them for sleep. Says Major Stuart, “We saw the sun set in indescribable glory, throwing the shadow of the vast mountain far away over Georgia and Aperbijau, and evert darkening the distant haze of the East ern horizon." After a short night’s rest, they travelled on at dawn, and saw sunrise from the top of Ar arat lighting up at once vast tracts of the Per sian, Turkish, and Russian empires. By nine o’clock they had reached the highest peak,, stock a sword up to the hilt in the snow as a memorial, and drank a loyal toast ip brandy. The summit is nearly level, and of a triangu lar shape about three hundred feet one way, and two hundred feet the other. The snow is as fine and as dry as powder. Thus was accomplished the perilous ascent of Mount Ararat, by some, considered unpre cedented. Be Systematic. —A coiemporitry truly says (his will add more to yOur convenience than you can imngine. It stives time, saves temper, saves patience and saves money.— It will Soon be found easier to act by rule than without one. Be systematic in everything; let it extend to the most minute trifles. It is not beneath you. ' Whitfield criuld not go to sleep at night, if, afler retiring, he remem bered that his gloves and riding whip were not in thetr'dsunl place, where/he could lay his hand on them in the dark' In any 'emer gency. Such men leave their marie on the world's history. Systematic irnen tire ijie rridsl reliable men; they are those who' Com ply with their engagement. They are nrtiri ule (nen. The man who has nothing to do is the man who does nmhiiig. The syste matic man is soon known to do 'whaf hd en gages to do j to do it well, and lo'do if well, and to db it at the same timd prdmiscd, edn seqoeriily hd hoV his hands full." : ~ ’ 1 Twtsxixoj^ThtPChicago, firffs jells a good story by way of illustrating the follies of grown up people, t ~ Two girls pf twelve or, fourteen years re centUi passed, aiopg Eake.sitreel. surreppded by hoops-apd trailing' (ong^dressefi,oypr flip (dirty pavement. Tijey were novice? .in, (be, m .®9?jS e j n ? n l of such iip acquire die ip. Inn aUpmpt-, . “fift if twist too much ?” asked pne, pfitpeonxipus couple, f as she wriggled, aldiig,, “Oh no,” said the other, dropping a flute behind Ip.obr perve the effect, “but'iJ you could rise « /ijttld on your toes as you sijulrm, it would thrqw Jour dress better.” , ,; WHAT BLAVERT DOES FOR THK.J*OOR WHITE HAS, A correspondent of Life Illustrated, trav elling in South Carolina, thus describes the condition of that miserable class of whites, Sandhillers, whom the employment of slave labor, by the wealthier class, has driven into vagabondage. Shall anothei such communi ty be raised up in Kansas 1 . Between the “low country,’’ as it is termed and the “upper country,” of South Carolina, lies the middle of the Sandhill region. A large portion of this tract, which varies from ten to thirty miles, is covered with forests of pines, interspersed here and there with a va riety of other trees. Where it is under cul tivation, the principal crop is cotton. But the land is not generally fertile, and much of it is likely to remain for a long lime a partial wilderness. Tho counlry itself presents few interesting features, but it is the home of an interesting race of people, to whom I may profitably de vote a few paragraphs of description. In travelling through the “middlecountry,’ I ofien passed thq ru'de, squalid cabini of the’ Sandhillers, All the inmates flocked to the door of their windowless domicils to stare at me. And such a lank, scrawny, filthy set of beings 1 never beheld elsewhere—not even within the purlieus of the “Five points.” Their complexion is a ghastly yellowish while, without the faintest tinge of wholesome red. The hair of the adults is generally Sandy, and that of the children nearly as white ns cotton. The children even paler if possible, than the adults, and often painfully haggard and sickly looking. They are entirely uneducated and semi barbarous in all their habits very dull and stupid, and, in general social position, far be low the slave population around them. In fact, the negroes look - down upon them -with mingled feelings of pity and contempt.— They are “squatters” on land belonging to others, either with or without their consent. They sometimes cultivate, or rather plant a small patch of ground near their cabins, on which they raise a little corn, and a few cab bages, melons, arid sweet" potatoes. Their agricultural operations netfer extend beyond this. Corn bread, pork artd cabbage, (fried in lard,) seem to be their principal artidlea of diet. To procure the latter, end what fdw clothes they require, they make shingles* or basket or gather pine knots' and wild 1 ter ries, which they sell in the villages; but be yond what is required to slipply their very limited actual necessities,ithey will not work. Their principal employments are hunting ana-itaMng, .u.;, amusements, drinking whiskey and fighting. Their dress is as primitive as their habits. The women and children invariably-go bare headed and bhre*footed, and bare-legged, their only garments apparently being a coarse cali co. The men wear a cotton shirt, and trou sers of the coarse, home spun cloth of the country, with the addition, sometimes, of an upper garment, too rude and shapeless to be named or described. I one day met a migrating family of these miserable people. On a most sorry, lank, and almost fleshless substitute fora horse were packed the entire household effects of the family, consisting of a bed and a few cooking utensils. Two small children occupied the lop of the pack. Two larger ones, each loaded with a bundle, trudged behind with mother, who appeared hot more than seven teen years of age. The father, a wild, sinis ter looking fellow, walked a iittlo in advance of the rest, with his long rifle on his shoulder, and his hunting pouch by his side. A correspondent of one of the city dailies thus describes an encounter with a Sandhill family: Here, on, the road, we meet a family who have been in town. A little girf of ten years old, with a coarse old fragment of a dress on, is sitting on (he backbone of n moving skele ton of a horse, which has the additional task of trailing along a rickety specithen of a*wag on, in which is seated a man—a real outside, squalid barbarian, maudlin and bbfusticqted with baldfuced whiskey, with a child four or five years old, by his side. Behind this, a haggard-looking boy upon another skeleton of a horse is cdmlng. What an old, outlandish, low wheeled cart the horse is pulling! There.sits the old wo man and Iter grown up daughter, will) nothing on, apparently, except a dirty bpnnet, and a coarse and dirty gown, Thp daughter has a basket by her side, and the old woman, holds fast to suspicious looking stone jug, of half a gallon measure, corked with a.-corn cob.— Your life on it, that it is a jug of whiskey.— The family have been' to the village with a couple o( one-horse loads of (tide knots’, used for light wood, They have probably sold them for a dollar, half of which has probably gone for whiskey, and now they are getting home. Degraded as they arc, you see it is the man who is helpless; and the woman whu has the-care of the jug, andcbnducts the im portant expedition, There ate hundredssuch people dispersed-through these sind hillsl— You see (he whole of this''parly nrd bare legged and bara.fooled. And how bony and brown they >arel Anditis a curious , fact, that in. terofterate countries, the children of all semi-barbarous people,nod all Anglo Sax on hack-woods,,or, mountain, on prairie.peo pie, have cotton,-headed, jei. flaxen-headed cbildfee, .... - . I Low indeed is the lowest class of (he white people,in the. Southern-Stales,, lhoUgh> no where else hayc ( {bund,(hem quite bo degra ded, as in SoqthCarolin.a., ; yv\»ito folks,l* ore, tljo, terms, by. which the negroes designatey J hero, and jn tlje -jyord “p°9f” Q , great deal is meant in tins"' connection,, lERSDAY MORKIXG, KOYEM includes not only pecuniary poverty, but ig norance, boorishness, and general social deg radation. The Southern negro never applies the word “poor” to any one wfio has the manners and bearing of a gentleman, how ever light his purse. “Poor while man” is an object he looks down upon—an object of pity or contempt 3ER 11, K)(j. Speaking Evil of my Neighbor. Has he done me an injury 7 If so, will backbiting mend the matter I Will it make him cease trying to injure me 7 Will it prof it me in any way 7 If not, why should Ido 80? If my neighbor has been injurious, would it not be better to tell him his fault in stead of telling it to everybody else? But perhaps my neighbor has never tried to in jure me; perhaps we have even been on terms of friendship, and he faithful, /s it not wrong then for me to profess friendship and act the part of an enemy 7 Have I seen days of adversity ; did the dark clouds of sorrow gather thick and black over my head and did my neighbor then sympathize with me, and shall I now do him an injury 7 Per haps he has admonished me and prays for me. Well, as he fH'u Christian, he will not cease to pfay for me. Christ says, “pray for them which despilefully use you and per secute you.” I am a Christian, or at least would be thought so. I then profess to study the peace and unity of the church, but in stead of this, my conduct tends to destroy Zion’s peace and harmony. Is this right 7 Let conscience answer. I retire to my clos et and bow my knee before my Maker and say, “Lord, I have near and dear friends who are strangers to religion; bring them in to thy house and save them from sin.” But But can t pray in faith while I slander those that are in the church 7 Will not my uncon verted friends think that there are evil pas sions, and discords and alienations among professing Christians and so avoid thoir con nection 7 Is it not my duly as a professing Christian, when I hear an evil report of a neighbor, to smother it, until 1 find out if it be .true or not, and even then not to spread it over the land, Unless urged by imperative du ly-;7 My own conscience knows how to an swer. If I hear noevil reportsof my neigh bors, is it right for me while living in appa rent peace and good will, so to speak of them as io leave the impression (hat (bey have not the beat character. ,In short, is it right forme toaett the part iirVJllrfoa. poking m'y hatred by deceit 7 Let nte look over this again and answer these questions sincerely and honestly, as in the sight of God, remembering that 1 must ren der an account to God for all my thoughts, «w/U.jam] actions. Lei me henceforward not speak, nor even mv ne i„ h bors. they have their own sinq to answer for ana I have mine. —panner and Advocate. Freemasons in Turkey. The London Daily Neics states that, al though Freemasonry has more than thirty years been generally supposed to exist among the Mahometans, and traces of it were found in Turkey by the Russian officers after .the campaign of 1829, yet they were too slight to prove the fact, and it is only within the last few years that it was salifaclorily demonstra ted by a German Freemason chancing to pass through Belgrade, where ho discovered a Ma sonic Lodge, to which he was invited and where he received a hospitable reception. It appears now to be proved beyond all doubt, that the Turkish brothers-who exerciee their Masonic duties under the name of Dervishes, are, to all intents and purposes) the same as our own order of Freemasons, with but very little difference in their ouslotfas and ceremo nies, and making use of exactly (he same signs; words and grips, to recognize each other. The Turkish Freemasons appear to be in a more elevated ’ state of civilization than is usual amongst the Orientals generally; their views of religion are far higher then those imposed by Islatnism ; they rejected po lygamy, contenting themselves with one sin gle wife, ad at (he Masonic banquets the women appear unveiled-—a striking proof of the mutual confidence the Masonid brethren repose in each other. The Belgrade Lodge, called Alikotsch, is composed of about seventy members. The master of the Lodge, whose name is Djnni Ismail Mohamcd Saodo, is at the same time grand master of all the Lodges in European Turkey, and -is directly connected-with nil those of the whole of the Ottoman Empire, Arabia and Persia, in which latter the Free masons amount to more, than fifty thousand members. In Constantinople there are no less than nine lodges, the most numerous hnd important of which is that of the dancing dervishes, Called Sirkedeshi Teckar. The Turkish Freemasons wear.hs Symbols of the brotherhood, besides a small brown shawl em= broidered with mystical figures, n flat, pol ished, twelve-cornered piece of marble, with reddish .brown spots about two inches in di ameter, suspended by a white silken cord around tile, nepk. These, .spots. represopted they drops of bipod, and are symbolic of the death tjio founder of lltQ.ptdey in Tur key, yvho„pm», .barbpriously , pullQ .death by ihe-lhcpSultan, for refusing to reveal those crgls. Tho-above-mentjoned Djani Ismail, grand master of the,lodge of Belgrade, a ven erable Turk- of the old school, is- honorary member of.-W,Baldwin -under -the lime-tree’’ at Liepsitrrsovcrar members of which Lodge (mve been received troip the Alikoisch'at Belgrade; " ’ „ ‘ X lifilo chiitflllanpgia sermon, hnd ob- the very vehement fn nis wbrda.ahtf gesiujrca, cried out, why don’t the’pcop[c 10l thie man oat of thp,box.” BtUottH to t!j* 25jctt«fltou of tfcc gtvez of JFm&om au& tfjc Spicact of ftralt&g iUfom PHBLISHKKS & PKOPRIKTOHS >:o. How they Make Gunpowder. A correspondent of the New York Tribunt ( in a letter from Wilmington, Delaware, gives I the following i itcresling account of the pro- 1 cess by which powder is made at the celebra-1 led mills of Du Pont in that city : i Of course, of the details of the business | of the Messrs. Du Pont, even if known to me, I could not make mention, unless by their ( consent; but' the process of manufacture is I in reality no secret; every book of ohemis- ( try trcatihg of it to some extent, Ml know I that gunpowder is composed of saltpetre, sul-1 phur and charcoal, though but few have anv | idea of the trouble and labor gone through to I have these materials of a proper quality.— i The saltpetre as received at the yards, has \ the appearance of dirty coarse salt, tilled I with a short fibrous matter ; by a process of 1 refining, two or three limes repealed, it as- i sumes the appearance somewhat of fine table ; salt, in which state it is fit for the powder- i mill. Great care is also taken to fiuvc the i sulphur pure. But the most labor and fore- 1 thought seem to be necessarry in procuring j the charcoal, which is made of willow and I poplar, the former being used for the best I kinds of powder. To procure supplies of I these woods, the proprietors set out yearly, | in every nook and corner, trees, which are I hewn down every three years, and the branch-1 es are converted into charcoal. This method i of procuring the wood gives a singular an- | pearance to the country ; for in many places I along side the roads, or by the streams, may be seen old tree trunks, standing but little higher than a man’s head, and topped only ■with a bunch of small branches. I saw some Irunks that appeared to be forty or fifty years old, without a limb bigger than my wrist,- i Tha mill buildings, in which the materials | a're ground and mixed, are scattered along the banks of the stream, each one containing a mill. They are built of stortoon three sides, with heavy walls, strengthened with piers; the other side, facing the stream is of wood, and the roof also slopes toward the stream. The plan of construction is to lessen the damage from explosions; for should an ex plosion take place, the force would be divert- 1 ed toward the stieam. The mills consist of two heavy iron rollers on wheels, moving in a trough. I saw one pair, each of which weighed 15,000 pounds—about seven tons. The materials beiog well mixed up and pul verized in these mills, is slightly moistened, when it is pressed into cakes, till it becomes almost as hard as plaster of pans. These cakes are then broken up into small pieces, and taken to the granulation mill, an opera tion which on account of its danger, I was not permitted to see. After granulation, the powder is taken to the glazing mill. Here COO or 700 pounds are put into a wooden Cush-, —- Q i.,; n f, mo( ierately fast for twenty four hours, there being sin ... Qf rhese casks, and close bv each were 700 pounds more, ready for another charge. From the glazing mill the powder is taken to the dry-l ing house. Here at the time of my visit,, were nearly four tons of powder, spread out on trays, while close by were two furnaces roaring away at the rate of a ton of coal each, in twenty-four hours. Danger there was not, yet I could not but think ol Sebas topol and the story of its mines. From the drying house the powder is taken to the packing house, where it is put into barrels or canisters, and thence taken to a magazine, of which there are several, built with the same regard to non-damage in the case of an explosion as the grinding mills. While stand ing in one of (he packing houses, and just as I had given a kick to a hundred pound keg of powder, intended for bis excellency Santa Anna, Mr.om calumny ; the best of our countrymen, Washington, Franklin, Jeffer son. and others innumerable, have suffered by vile and cowardly detraction. The effect of this universal censure ts to make many good and able men stand aloof from nolilicat contests, and withhold their talents that might otherwise be beneficial 10 Die community ; it renders some men in office obdurate and al most indilierent to public opinion, and thus one of the best effects of the Dress, Us re straint on public officer.-, is destroyed. The eonduetois of the Dress should be men of liberal principles and strict inieamy, firm in a good cause, and unwilling 10 undertake a bad one ; such men are a real credit and ad, vantage 10 Dicir country .- Typographic llee , isler. A Picture of Moscow. "There is nothing in the world.” says Mr. llussel, the London Times correspondent, “like Moscow bm .(self. Perhaps some of ihnse vast Chinese cilies in the interior ol - the Flowery Kingdom, ol* whose exient and popu, lation one hears such wondrous stones, may resemble the enormous metropolis, wnich with miraculous patience, perseverance, and celerity, (he Russians have erected, in less than half a century, on the rums and amid the ashes of their ancient capital. When tho blackened and shattered walls of the Krem lin, a few stone houses, and the shells of dese crated churches were all that was left of Moscow, the popular will, guided by the Czar and tho nobility, resolved that a fairer and nobler city should spring up m the mid-d of the waste, on the identical spot where Napo leon had imagined he had struck Russia to the heart. And thus, with loftier spires and ampler cupolas, in larger proportions and more profuse, elaboration, churches, palaces, royal and princely mansions—this miracu lous capital, the centre of the Russian's faith, of his history, again stood on the plains of Moska. Following their instinct and their national characteristics, they scarcely sought to improve on the ways of their ancestors, and the forms and directions of the old streets were preserved almost intact; so that the tor tuous Tartar thoroughfares are still visible in their type in the best quarters of the new city. All the ecoentnellies of Bvzanimo architecture are here developed and varied with extraordinary skill. The wild Tartars who could not perpetuate (heir faith, at least to tha church of Russia, some outward and visible signs of their religion, and the mosquo and Greek chapel are here present, as it were, in perpetual silent conflict.” Absence op Mind. —Talking of absence of mind, the oddest instance of this sort hap. pened lo me once in forgetting my own name. I knocked at a door in London, and asked; “(s Mr. 8., at home ?” '•Yes, sir, pray what name shall I say I" I looked in the man’s face astonished. “What name? what name? aye, that’s the question—what is my name?” I believe the man though*, me mad; but it is literally true that, during the space of two or three minutes, I had no more idea of who I was than if I had never existed. I did not know whether I was a dissenter ora layman, I felt as dull as Sternhold and Hopkins. At last, lo my great relief, it flashed across my mind that I was Sidney Smith. I heard of a clergyman who went jogging along the road till he came to a turnpike, "What is lo pay ?” “Bray, sir, for what?” asked the turnpike man. “Why, for my horse lo be sure.” “Your horse, sir, whut horse? Here is no horse, sir.” “No horse?” said he, suddenly looking down between his legs, “God bless me! I thought 1 was on horseback !”Sidney Smith. One of the Beaux. —The Cincinnati! Commercial (ells (he following good glory : A young-man from the town of S , in Richland county, Ohio, lately visited Clove land accompanied by a fair damsel. Thfr young man never having been much fcopß “hum,” was somewhat unaccustomed V) the. “ways of the world.” Ho put up at tu.e Wed dell, and ordered dinner, which indite tima being announced, the young gallant bpltfly walked into a sumptuous repast, leaving tha young lady alone in the sitting room. After partaking of a meal that “astonished his stomach," he returned to his companion— who was rather surprised at this proceeding— and remarked— ■ “The dinner was darped good—why djdp’\ you huy some I’ 1 The above is an actual fact, which wo can vouch for. The young lady wag sixteen hours-without anything to cat. A. minister approached a mischievous ur chin about twelve years old and laying hig hunt) upon his shoulder, thus addressed him : , “My son.il believe the devil has g«t hold of you," ..“I believe he has too," was the significant reply of the urchin. Thtfindividual who tried to clear hi? PPP: science with an egg, js now endeavoring to' raise his spirits with yeast. If he fails in this, it is his deliberate intention to blow his brains out with a bellows, and then sink calmly into the afms of—a yopng'lady.