D. A. EURDIER, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. VOL, XVIII,--27.1 _ , . ( Selected from "Poems by Ahr.u." PULPIT ELOQUENCE. TN, day anodic/Wog-4m breese.in its glee Had left the fair bkosionis to sing on the am, As the sun in its ,gorgeousiiess, radiant and still, Droppeddownithe a rim from the brow of the bill ; One rromokins star, in the glory of Jun, . Cable out' with a smile and sat down by the moon, As she grimed her bine throne with the pride of a queen. • ' 6 The smiles of her loveliness gladdening the scene. The scene was enchanting! in distance away Rolled the fmm-crested waves of the Chesapeake bay, •While bathed in the moonlight, the •Wage was seen, With the church in the distance, that stood on the - green, Tlwsofb4dOpittg - rnisulows - lay brightly - unrolled With their mantled of verdure and blossoms of -ar3l€l.- And the earth in her beauty. forgetting to grieve, Lay Weep in her bloom on the bosom of eve. A light•hegrted child. I had wandered *lvey From the spot where my footiteps had gamboled ' all day, And free, as a bird's. was the song of my soul, As I heard the wild waters exultinsly roll, While, lightening my heart as I sported along With bursts of low laughter and snatches of song, I struck in the pathway half-worn o'er the sod By the feet that went up to the worship of God. As I. tread its green windings &murmur of prayer With the hymn of the worshippers woe on the air ; And, drawn by the link, of its sweetness along, I stood unnbserred in the midst of the throng. For awhile my young spirit still wandered about With-th•-birderastlibat.arara.siniking without, But birds, waves. and zephyrs. werequickly forgot In one angel-like being that brightened the 'pot. In nature nrjeetic, apart from the throng He stood in his beauty, the theme of my song! His cheek pale with fervor—the blue orbs shove Lit up with the splendors of youth and of love; Yet the heart-glowing raptures, that beamed from those eyes, Seemed saddened by sorrows, and chastened by sighs, As if the young heart in its bloom had grown cold With its loves unrequited, its sorrows untold. Ruch !angrier as his I may neyet reran ; But his theme wss salva•ion-441eation to all ; And the souls of a thousand in erstacy hunu On the manna-like sweetness that dropped (rein his tongue ; Not alone on the err his wild eloquence stole ; Enforced by each gesture it sank to the soul, Till it seemed that sn angel had brightened the sod Arid brought to each lastom it message from God. He spoke of the savinur—what pictures hedrew! The scene of His *offerings row clear on my view; The erase—the rude cross where ho suffered and died, The gush of bright crimsom that flowed from His side, The cup of his sorrows, the wormwood and gall, The darkness that mantled the earth a* a pall, The garland of thorns, and the demon-like crews. Who knelt as they scoffed Hint—glair King of the Jews!. He spake, and it pecmed.that his siitue-like form Exprulal and glowed as his spirit GROW WarMl liie One so impassioned, so mel in; his air, As touched with compassion, he ended in prayer, His hands clasped above him, his blue orbs up- thrown, Btlll pleading fur sins that were never hi, own, While that mouthi-whenrauch sweetness ineffable clung, Still spoke, though expression had died on his tongue. 0 God ! what emotions the speaker awoke! A mortal he seemed—yet a deity spoke ; A man—yet so far from humanity riven ! On ea:thyet so closely connected with heaven ! How of in my fancy I've pictured him there. As he flood in that triumph of passion anti prayer. With hie eye* closed in rapture—their transient eclipse Made bright by the smiles that illumined his lips. There's a charm in delivery, a magical art. That thrills, like a kiss, from Mk lip to the hest; "I' is the glance—the toxpression—the well-chosen word. By whose magic the depth of the spiri• art stimcd, The smile—the mute gesture—the soul-startling pause, The eye's sweet expression—that melts while it awes, The soft persuasion—its musical tone -0 such was the charm of that eloquent one ! The time is long past, yet hnw clearly defined That bay . , chunk and village, float up on my see amid azure the moon in her pride, With the sweet little trembler, that sat her side, I hear the blue waves, M. she wanders along, , Leap up in their gladness *tithing her a song, 'And I tread in the pathway half-worn oe'r the sod By the feel that went pp to the worship of God. The time is long put, 314. what vision* I see ! The put, the dim put, is the present o me ; I am standing once more mid that deatt-stricken throng, A vision teats up-4 H the theme of my song— All glorious ind bright es a spirit .of air, The light like a halo encircling his hair— Ad I catch the same accents of sweetness and love, He whispers of Jesus—and points us above. How sweet to my heart is the picture Pre traced ! Ita chain of briOt faces seemed almost effaced, Till memory, the fond one, that sits in the soul, Took up the frail links, and connected the whole ; As the dew to the blossoms, the bud to the bee, As the scent to the,rese,nre those memories to me; Round the chords' of my beart they hare tremb lingly clung, And tisecho it gives . is the song I hail sang. • Semansiess.-- , Sellishnees has no foal. hie a haul of stone encased in iron.— Selfishness cannot see the miseries of the world—tt eatinet feel the pangs of thirst or Mincer: It robs its own grave—sells its OVFlltronet to the doetor, and its soul to the Who will not fight manftilly against a selgith dieposition I It grows gradually, and when mutual, increases rapidly day by day. Prosperity and good luck feeds the . patislon. Silver and gold makes it laugh outright. Who has not seen the eyes of the selfish water at a good trade t—who has not seen him leap for very joy at the rise of flour, while the poor were starving about him ! Selfishness is a passion of hell, and all good men should labor to keep it there. An anecdote is told of Bantle. a'French author, which may serve to dins-. trate this passion. He called upon a (ly ing man, to obtain his opinion on a new comedy, and insisted that he should hear MM read it. "Consider," said the dying man, "I have not more than an hour. to live." "Ay," replied the selfish man, "but it will occupy but half the thee." IMAGINARY TROUBLES. - " lialf our griefs are imaginary. Before you have recourse to arsenic, therefore try what virtue there is - in an emetic. Instead of your business being deranged, it may turn out to have been nothing but your stomach._ Two thirds of the melsneholy in r ibi3 Market is nothing but indigestion." There is force in this extract. Many a fit of des pondency arises from indigestion. • down eust Yankee very cutely says, •.Though the mon hold the reins: the women t.. 11 'em which way thry must drive." DiATURAU AFFECTION. A writer in the Louisville (Ky.) Advet. _ . • tiler. camhating the common id ea, the there exists an instinctive affection ! which would attach to each other relatives who' were unconscious of the fact, and by fosse of which friends long separated would in-1 stoutly recognize each other, cites the ful., lowing chariiirerisiie anecdote of our illus.: trious countryman Feerisue, as a proof of the truth of his argument. Docrita BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, after the deceuse of his father, returned * Boston, in order to t pay his respects to iniither who residal in that town. He had.been absent for.eome years, and at that period of life when the greatest and most rapid alteration is made in the human appear: anee.'--at a time when the querulous voice otthe atripling assumes 'the conunanding tone of the adult, and the smiling features of youth are succeeded by the strong line of manhood:" The Doctor was sensible, such was the alteration of his pers.bit, that his mother could not know him, except by that instinct, which, it is believed, ran make a mother's heart beat violently in the presence of her child, and point the ma ternal eye, with a quick and sudden glance, to a beloved son. --Ttraiscover-therxisteneestf ' . by actual experience, the dormr resolved to introduce himself as a stranger to his mother, and to watch narrowly for the mo ment in which she should discover her son, and then to determine with the cool precision of the philosopher whether that discovery was the effect of the affection— that intuitive love—that innate attachment, which is conjectured to connect relatives of the same blood, and which, by accord ins passions or parent and child, like a well tuned viol, would at the first touch cause them to vibrate in unison, and at once evince that they were different chords of the same instrument. On a sullen, chilly day in the month of January, in the afternoon. the Doctor knocked at his mother's door, and asked to speak with M rs. Franklin.• He found the old lady knitting before the parlor fire —introduced himself by observing that he had been informed she entertained travel lers and requested a night's lodging. She eyed him with that cold look of disappro bation which most people assume when they imagine themselves insulted by being supposed to exercise an employment but one degree below their real occupation in hie—assured him he had been misinform- 1 ed—that she did not keep a tavern, hut that it was true, to oblige some of the members of the legislature, she took a number of them hats her family, during 1 the session ; that she had then four mem bers of the Conned and six of the House of Represenhitives, Who fioardetj with her —that all her beds were full—and then, betook herself to her knitting with that in tense application which expressed as forri bly as action could do, "if gnu have con chided your business, the sooner you leave the house the Netter." But upon the Dime.l tor's wrapping his coat around him, affect- I I lug to shiver with the cord, and observing I that it was •-very cold weather," she p • - to a chair, and gave hint leave to warm himself. The entrance of the boarder. precluded all further conversation—coffee was soon served, and the Doctor partook with the family. To the coffee, nectinlieg to the guild old custom of the times, succeeded a plate of pippins. pies, and a pap'. of Mcliityre's best. when the whole family formed a cheerful semi-circle before the fire. Perhaps no man ever pososessed the colloquial powers to a re fascinat.: ing degree than Doctor Franklin; and never was there an occasion when he dis played those powers to a greater advan. tage, than at this time. He drew the at tention of the company by the solidity of modest remark—instructed them by the varied new and striking lights in which he placed his subject. and delighted them with apt and amusing anecdotes. Thus employed, the hours passed merrily along until 8 o'clock. when punctual toe nut inent,' Mrs. Franklin announced supper. Busied with her household affairs, she fan cied the intruding stranger had quitted the house immediately after coffee, and it was with difficulty she could restrain her re senunent when she saw him without mo. lestation, seat himself at the table with the freedom of a member of the family. Immediately after supper, she ealleil an elderly gentleman. a member of the Coun cil, in whom she was accustomed to con fide, to another . room--rom plaint d bitterly of the rudeness of the stranger=told his manner of introduction into the house— observed that-he appeared like an outland ish man, and, she thought, had something very suspicious in his appearance—and concluding by soliciting her friend's advice, with respect to the' way in which she could moat easily rid herself of his Ores once. The old man assured her that the stranger was certainly a man of education, and to all appearances a gentleman; that perhaps being in agreeable company, he had paid no attention to t h e lateness of the hour, and advised her to call him aside, and repeat to him her inability to lodge him. Sheaccordingly sent her maid to hint, and then, with as much temper as she could command, recapitulated the sit tvion of the family, observed, that it grew late and mildly intimated that he would do well to seek himself a lodging. The Doc tor replied that he would by no means in commode her family, hut that with her leave, he would smoke one more pipe with her hoarders and then retire. Ile returned to the coinpany, filled his pipe, and with the first whiff his powers to converse returned with double force. He reenunted hardships—he extolled the piety and policy of their ancestors. A gentleman present mentioned the subject of the day's delvate in the Douse of Representatives.— A bill had been introduced to extend the prerogative of the royal governor. The Doctor immediately entered upon the sub. jest—supported the colonial rights with new and forcible arguments; was familiar with the influential men in the house when Dudley was Governor—recited their speech. es, and applauded the Chamber rights. GETTYSBURG, PA. FRIDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 17, 1847. During a discourse so,appropristeiy teresting to the company, no , wonder that the clock struck 1 1. . unperceived by the.de itghtfill circle , nor Was it wonderful that the patience of Mrs. Fran lain by this time grew quite exhausted. Site . .now entered the room, and before the whole company,, with much warmtkiddressiffthe told him plainly she thought herself impo. sod upon; observed, that it was true she was a lone woman, but that she had' friends who would protect lier,,and concluded by insisting on his leaving the house. The Doctor made rt slight apology, deliberately put on his great cost and hat, hulk a polite leave of the company, and approached the sheet-door, lighted •by the-manl and attend ed by the mistress. While the Doctor and his companions had been ,enjitying themselves within, a most tremendous snow storm without had filled the streets knee deep—and no sooner. : -.had the maid lifted the latch:than a roaring north easter forced open the dour, extinguished the light, sod almost filled the entry with drill ed snow and hail. As soon as the candle was relighted, the Doctor cast a woeful look towards the door, and thus addressed his mother:—"My dear Madam, can you turn me out of your house in this dreadful storm 1 I am a stranger in this town and shall certainly perish in the streets. You look like a charitable lady : I shouldint tirinle yettroultl-nmrs derswiejo-frotiriL door onshis tempestuous night." “Don't tell me of chrsity," said the offended ma. trun. .4:badly begins at home. It is your own fault you tarried so long. To be plain with you. sir, I do nut like your looks or your conduct, and I fear you have some bad designs in thus introducing your self into toy family!? • The warmth of the parley had drawn the company from the parlor, and by their united interference, the stranger was per mitted to lodge in the house; as there was no bed. he consented to repose on an easy chair, before the fire; Although her board ers appezred to confide perfectly in the stranger's hooesty, it waspottitwith Mrs Franklin ; with suspicious caution, sitecol lected all her silver spoons,. pepper box and porringers from her closet; and after securing the parlor door by sticking a fork over the !sigh,. carried the. plate to the chamber, charged the negro man to sleep with his clothes on, to take the great clea ver to bed with him, and to waken and seize the vagrant at the first noise in at tempting to rob the house. • Having thus ta ken every precaution she retired to bed with her maid, whom she compelled to sleep in her room. a li Mrs. Franklin rose before the sun, roue. et her d Mies, unfastened the parlor door, with timid caution, and was agreea bly surprised to find her guest quietly in the chair. A sudden transition from ex treme mistrust to perfect confidence was natural." "She waked liim a cheer ful good morning—and enquired how he had rested—and invited him to partake of her breakfast, which was always served previous to that of her boarders. "And pray, sir." said the obi lady, as she sipped her chocolate, "as you appear to be a stran ger here, to what distant country do you belong ?" "1, madam, belong to the city of Philadelphia." At the mention of Phil adelphia, the Doctor declares he, for the first time, perceived any emotion in her.— "Philadelphia ?" said she—find nfl die feel ings of a mother suffused her eye. "11 you live in Philadelphia, perhaps you know our Rau." "Who, Madam ?" "Why Ban : my Ben; ohl he is the dearest child thateverblest a mother 1" "What." said the Doctor. "is lieu Frank lin, the Printer, youriiiii? why he •is my mien hamlet*, friend ; he and .1 lodge in the same room." "Oh God forgive me 1" exclaimed the old lady, raising her watery eyes to Heaven, "and. have 1 suf fered an acquaintance of my Benny to steep on this bard chair, while 1 myself 'have rested on a good soft bed!" How the Doctor discovered himself to his mother he has nut informed us; but front the shove experiment. he was firmly convineed, and was often heard to declare, that 'award affection does not exist' I'. THE Tuatt.- , --The traveller, Mr. Bar rel, was wit, king iu Constantinople.thrO4fi a street not open to Christians without an attendant Turk, The stores were sup plied with the richest assortment" of mar chandize ; among them he saw oue pre-em inent for the costly array of goods. A. he discovered one or two articles which he should like to pur c hase, and doing so gain n full view of the - contents:Of thifitore, he proposed to his attendant to enter. **That is impoisible," said the Turk, "u the owner has gone out." ' allut," "aid Mr. Barred, ,athe door is open." "True," replied the Turk, "but do von not seeat the door a' Chair With its :bark turned towards the street,'a align that no one is within, and•that no person Must en ter 1" "804". said Mr. Eiarrell, “ia theowner not exposing his hninense amount Si's prop erty to depredation "Nut at all, at all."said the Turk,-"do yOll not know 'haute Christiana are allow ed to enter this street without a Turk to attend him." ' • This shows the difference which a Turk (at least) thinks he finds between his own people and the Greeks. A COLLEOB B—, of the moral village of North Yarmouth, was one of the hardest "customers" that ever, in spite of his wild. pranks, carried off a sheepskin front College. If any serape, or mischievous performance of any sort, came off by/ night or day in those "digging," or any where in the region round about, Bill was sure to be "that-. '— Many was the innocent, unsophisticated Freshman whom he generously took under his wing and introduced to "the elephant," or "put through an en!i re con rse of sprou ts" %Ye remember ono of Bill's jokes, which tickled his associates immensely. One day, having bedaubed the banisters of the college stairs, he ran up to the fourth story, and there kicked up an unearthly racket. Prof. C—, hearing the uproar, and guessing the cause, rushed out of his room in hot haute. and dashing up the .TEARLESS AND FREE." stairs, soon put not his "foot," hut "his hand in it." Mortified and chopfallen, but greatly exasperated, he pushed on, howev er, but before he could reach the upper story. Bill, as usual, hed mizzled. Had his zoom door been thrown open, he might have been found about this time very deeply immersed in the study of Greek.— Being afterwards summoned before the fac ulty, and asked if he knew who beslimed the banisters, he replied; with a sly wink at. Prof. C—., that he ."couldn't tell who all the rogues were, hut he knew one fel low that had a han d l'his was too much fur the gravity . of the faculty; they made a strenuous but ineffectual attempt to restrain their risible*, and then :burst into a general laugh.. At. ,the suggestion of Prof. Bill's further presence was excused,—rankee Blida .NEW TOWN—GERMAN EBtNEZER SO - • • A community of Germans, about six miles east of Buffalo, incorporated by the Legislature under the above name, having. about four years since , purchased 8000 acres of wild land in ono body, embracing a number of water privileges, have made such improvements in agriculture and oth er- titters; hat I„ - have -- thought - vr short * s ketch of them might nut be uninteresting to the readers of the Cultivator. They e been known in Germany fiar one hun- dred antisfiTiears ay me name ortiepii: ratios ; and having sold out their interest and dissolved their community there, they removed here to the 'wilier of Stu souls, and are expecting large edditiona front Germany during the present season. They have already built up three eampaet villages a mile or twaipart; numbering. about 100 large and commodione dwelling houses, some 80 or 40 barns, from 50 to 200 feet long, tour saw mills, one flour mill, one oil mill, - a large woolen factory, a calico -printing establiahment, a tannery. a large variety of mechanic's ellops,school houses, &c., &e.; and have large herds of horses, cattle and swine. and over 2000 sheep. -- Their property.is all-held in corn.l mon, somewhat like that of the Fourier ites, or Shakers at New Lebanon, but in many respects radically ddrerent from those tommuttities. They have invested money in various ways en-their lanthr,H and in this vicinity to_ the amounFof more than $1,900,00.0.. • Maity . hidividuale . put into the common stock from $3OOO to 15.= 000 each ; one put in $60,000, and one, $lOO.OOO. If they ever leave the comma 7 l nity, which they are permitted to do at any thee if T hey choose, they stint draw back the sum they put in, without interest. No one his-yet-left-thein-frore elissatiafee , tion with their system, By mutual agree. meta, they can dissolve at any future. time and divide the profits. They marry and • are given lb marriage, and each family lives separate, except that they, in most cases, eat some six or ten families, togeth er at a common table, T k , whole com munity is under the direction and superin tendence of a set of trustees or elders, chosen annually by themselves„'who buy and sell and manage everything as they think will be beet fire the whole, and as they hare all kinds of tneehanics aMong themselves, they have little occasion' to go abroad for help. All the children are kept et school under competent teacher, who instruct the older ones in thehigliertirmieh, es, and also in the English language. Be - sides being well supplied with books in their families, ditty all have free access to a large public library. - Religion seems to be the grwerping'and in spiring element in this community ; each day's labor is preceded by a simsoti of de votional exercises in their sevendfainilies, 'and at the claim of libor at night,. they Si semhte by neighborhoods, and speed at, hour in prayer anti praise. The afternoon ellireditesZiay and Saturday is devoted to religious improvement. l'he.Sabbath is. strictly observed by an omission of all se cular bileitietie, anti by various religions exercises, both in their families and public assemblies. Thus far all has been terized by perfect hammy' and peace. In visiting the community wmoinger. will not-fail to betuntek with the:neatness,: order,. and 'perfection, with whieftall their Term operations are carried on; and the ait. tonishing improvements they have wade in so short tinie,—mostly within ; three years ; fpr besides the building, they have erected; they have cleared between 8000 and 4000 acres of land. from WhiCh nearly every, - ettiitip is thoroughly, eindieated, planted about 25.000 fritit treet, and mate many ;nit& of durable Pnees.,: -- :Tatiri- - garden., yards . , and fields, display, refitted testa and the highest state of etiltiration't , and•froari.present appearance', they sea mi the principle, that to eat lie e--and' . often is better than overloading the stomach at long intervals. ~.And they accordingly eat uniformly five , times each day; viz. at 0 1-2 A. M., 9 A. M.. end 12 IL ; 11 P. M.. and 7P. M. All of a suitable age. both male and.femuks, are to labor at such businesses, as either their taste, *mine, or habit may require: And whenever from any cause, such ass change of weather, or the sudden ripening of a crop, an extra number. of hands are needed:they rentiring 50 or 100 into a field at once, with any re. quired number of teams, and thus enjoy great advantages in cultivating and secur ing their crops. By a rather minute di vision of labor, each tuna or set of men is required to do one thing. and order and system are every where manifest and noth ing wasted. In a high sense, a place is provided for everything. and everything found in its place. In portions of machin ery for their factory and mills, and in ag ricultural implements, they are cautious in adopting our more recent tin provements, preferring to use those they brought with them from G crummy. Still their cloth and other manufactured articles are made in the best manner and their farm operations crowned with the highest success. Seperate barns, spacious and well vett- Mated, are provided for horses, oxemcows, yearlings, calves, and sheep, so that they are all sheltered in the most comfortable manner through the winter. and the apart-, molts for the sheep aro thoroughly white washed four or five times a year. Thus they promote health and increase the weight and fineness of the fleece. Thu sheep are divided into parcels and each is in the constant attendance of a shepherd 811(1 his dug during the day, in summer, and driven up every night and hurdled ; and the land thus manured by them during the night, is at the proper time sown with turnips. The cattle are also kept in separate classes ; and each is under the constant attendance every day of its herds man, and driven up to their yards at night. And then look at their series of barns, say 150 by 40 feet, standing in a line eight or ten rods apart, and the whole lower part fitted up exclasively, one for horses, an otherfor oxen, another for cows, another for young cattle , another for calves, and another . for sheep ; another series stand ing in another line and filled, some with hay, others with wheat, others with oats, onrtt; barley, &e.; and then other ranges of buildings, enclosing hundreds of swine, and others Mill, to accommodate all the poultry belonging to the community. Every stable for horses and cattle has trenches to carry oft the liquid manure in to tanks, to be thence conveyed to -the growing . crops of the farm ; and indeed in all their barns and yards, themtmostatten imition is paid to making and preserving Manure, and their luxuriant crops bear ern -ple-testimony -to its importance, and. the skill with which it is applied. Even the privies at their houses have the vaults ex tended some three feet back: and -covered 11 ' 'd qr I—iret ,)30 - flung on flinger ; and diiiiiirgh soil. removed by long handled dippers pm vided for the . purpose, 'suited most plemi folk noStbeir:frardemt. And. such splen did heeds of brittle lettuert, emelt eueumbers, eibbegest Infirm peas. and,eurn, as were grown under the stimulating effects of thiu liquid excrement, it has seldom been my lot to sea. . . Flora. too. has here heir rettn:ic!'s:LThere arc, also, engravers and exquuntepaiiiTerw of' plants. fruits, and flowers, for 'whose works orders Are constantly on ' - hand'ffom A. J. Downing, and Wiley & Patettniitmd Endicott. of New York, and - Dr. Gtrayt.of Boston, &e. Viehmg — trrreniarge --- their , momations.- they have recently . purchased a large tract of !anti (1000 . acres) .four miles. above Ohippew i a in Canada,-on the;Niagera rir er, and. established there a pranch of their community. - Socials's' to 'their- affOrti: . [Pultivaler. Payn-thicStr.lauisiliorialki..: - SPECULATING IN WRIS__,KERS OR BHA: VINO N .- X - 11DM ST EOL SMITH. Thrrerlived - in-fdilledgeville;MlBB2, a dantlyfied individual whom , will mill /auks. _This, _Audi siting! hail-e—tolerable favorable opinion of hitt.perannal aptmar• sues. Hia fingerd ware butmed_with.relgs. and his shirt bosom was decked with 11 . magnificent breastpin,; vest, and boots were made .10. fit ,be-ware4lores of remarkable whiteness; his halt wed oiled and dressed in the latest arid . hest style; and, to complete his killing appearance, he sported an enormous pair of sass wets. REAR. Of these whiskers /emits was as proud as a young cat of her tail' when‘abe first discovera she has one. ' I we sitting ono day. in It Orokeeettiffitts, when Jetiltx came 'to , ;mom the prile of exchange in New York. He wammvited to sit down and a cigar was offered him.* Converaation turnedniMninrYitlgand MIK* stocks, a remark was mide - by a gentleman . present, that he . thought no person should sell out stock in inch-and-such a batik at that time, as it mud* get better in a few I days. - ' "I will sell cmy thing l'ie - grit. W I can make arty-thing on it," renttrited Jack.. "Oh Mt " replied one- "not 'any -thin —you wouldn't eel/ your -Primulas I" , A loud laugh followed this chance re. mark--Jerike immediately suuttiveri4V.-“I would, but who would want them! Any person making the purchase would lose money , by it. l'in thinking." "Well: , l obrerved• 4 l would be willing to take the speculatiim, if the price could be made reasonable." 4.0111'11 sull'imicheap:' answered Jenks. winking at the,gendetnen present. “What You callsheap rj inquired. “111 sell ' theta - fel filly - Jenks answered, puffing forth a cloud of sutoke storms the counter and repealing the wish. "Well. that it cheap; and you'll sell your whiskers for fifty dollar& t" will." •.' "Both of them !" • • • ..linth of theui." - • •'l7ll lake them both. .When ,can I have them I" . • ••4kny lime you chose to call for them." "Very well 7 —they're . miqe, I think 1 tloollle my motley on them at least." ItoOk a bill of safe, as follows: "Received of `Sol Smith filly dole:ire in full for l ily crop of whiskers, to he worn littl taken care of by ine, and delivered to J him when called for. J. ENKS." The sum of filly dollars was paid, and Jenks left the broker's office in high glee, diuurishing fire Central Bank X's, and tel ling all his acquaintances of the great bar gain he had made in his sale of his whis kers. The broker and his friends laughed at me fur being taken in so nicely. "Never mind," said 1, "let those laugh that win; I'll make a profit out of those whiskers, depend upon it." For a month after this, whenever Jenks, and I met, he asked me when I intended to call fur ipy whiskers. ' "I'll let you know when I want them," was always my answer. "Take good care of them—oil them occasionally ;I shall call for them one of these days, A splendid ball was to be given to the members of the Legislature. I ascertain ed that Jenks was to be one of the mana gers—he being a great lady's man, (on ac count of his whiskers, I suppose.) and it occurred to me before the ball took place, I might as well call for my whiskers. One morning I met Jenks in a barber's shop. Ile was adonizing before a large mir ror, and combing up his whiskers at a devil of a rate. "Ah ! there'you are old fellow, said he, speaking to my reflection in the glass— " Come for your whiskers, I suppose I" "Oh, no hurry," I replied, as 'sat down for a shave. "Always ready, you know," he answer ed, giving a final tie to his cravat. "Goose to think of it," said I musingly, as the barber began to put the lather on my fare, "perhaps now would be as good a time as another; you may sit down and let the barber try his hand at the whiskers." "You couldn't wait till to-morrow, could you ?" he asked, hesitatingly—'•There's a ball to-night, you know—" "To be sure there is, and I think you ought to go with a clean fare—at all events I don't see any reason why you should to wear my whiskers to that ball; so sit down." He rather sulkily obeyed, and in a few moments his cheeks were in a perfect foam of lather. The barber flourished his ra zor, and was about to commence operations, when I suddenly changed my mind .! "Stop, Mr. Barber." I said, "you need not shave off those whiskers yet." So he quietly put up his razor, while Jenks started up from the chair in something very much resembling a pagmion. ',This is trilling," he exclaimed. "You have claimed your whiskers. take them." "1 believe a man has a right to do as he pleases with his own property," I remark ed, and left Jenks washing his lace. At dinner that day the conversation turned upon the whisker affair. It seems the whole town got wind of it, and Jenks could not walk the streets without the re- .filtrlrtMl fig contiilllally m tide by IMy , "There goes the man with Old And they had grown to an im inense size, Mr he dared not triin In' short I became convinced Jenks was . waning very impatiently no me to assert my rights in the property. It happened that 'several of the party were sitting op. posite me at dinner . wlio were present Wltefi Ihtitiegulai bargain ,w, and they urged Mc to take the aim rt that very day, and thus compel Jenks to go uy tltb hall'WhiCkerlesc, or stay at home. I 'agreed with them it was about time reap my crop, acid promised that if they would Fad Meet me at the brolior'sslMp'where the Lftirehatm.imd been made ; I' would make call ow—Jenks that evening after he had dressed forthe•ball. MI promised to be I present-M. the _proposed shaving operation lin the MAN.'. °dice, and I sent for Jenks' malAtit,;barber, On the appearance` of Jenks it was evident he was much vexed twilit) sudden call upon him, and Ilia vexa sion:was :certainly not lessened when he Caw the broker's office was tilled to over illowinuby spectators anxious to behold the barbarous proceeding. ' - “Come, in a hurry," he said, as he tank aseat and leaned his head ngainst the eounterfor support: cannot stay here lottgi.severe) ladies are waiting for me to , escort.thetn;to the ball." 4.True. 'very [true—you are one of the managere—l recollect. Mr. Barber don't etain.the gentleman—go to work at onc e." - The lathering Wwith about_ soon over, HMI about_ three strokes of the razor, one side of his face was deptived of its oinanient. "Collie; come, said Jenks, " push a head —there.is no time to be lost—let the gen tleman have his whiskers— he is impa tient." • . sNovat I replied, coolly, "I'm in a sort of u hurry myself—and 'vow I think of it, as your time is precious at this particu lar time. several ladies being in waiting for :yeti 'to , estore them to the ball; I believe I'll riott'ike the other whisker to-night." . A loud laugh from the by-standers, and s glance in the mirror, caused Jenks to o pen his eyes to the ludicrous appearance he out with his single whi4ker, and he began to insist upon My taking the whole of my property. But it wouldn't do. I had a Tight to take it when I chose—l was ohli ged to take them only when I chose--and I chose to take but half of them at that par ' steely' period—indeed I itiiimated to him Very plainly that I was not going to Very hard creditor; and perhaps, if he behaved himself, I would never call on him for the balance of what lie owed me, When Jenks became convinced that I was determined not to take the remaining whisker, he began, amidst the Willy ex pressed mirth of the crowd, to propose terms of compromise—first ofibring teti tillers, ther, twenty, thirty. forty-- fifty ! to take off the remaining whisker.- 1 said firmly, "My dear sir, there ie no.use in on your wearing that whisker for a mouth or so." "What Will yUu take for the whiskers ?" he at length asked., "Wont you sell them back to mei" "Ali," replied I,"now you . are beginning to al kas a Milliners man shOuld. Yea, I bought them on a 'speculation—lll, sell them, if .I can obtain a guml price ?" "%Vita is your price!" ..o,le hundred .duliers—mub t double Me the money." "Nodui P v less?" "Nut a tarthing less—mid not anx ious to sell even at that pries." "Well, rfl take them," he groaned, "there ie your inoney—aNd here; barber, shave uti this infernal whisker to less thansuu bile,-1 shall be late it the The barber accomplished his work. and poor Jenks was whiskerless. Jenks went to the ball, but before night was over. wished he hadn't. GOOD:GLIMPSE AT LONDON. t Larks and caterpillars'do not see the same world more differently than different trav ellers see the same cities,—and until the human race be stereotyped, we may go on reading new letters front abroad with . new pleasure. 'rho following, from a corres pondent of the "Christian Register," is, superior to most foreign correspondence : (Home JournaL LONDON,Iumr 13th, 1847. DEAR L.-+-You may believe that I am all eyes in this great show box—this cos norama of strange sights ; If I miss any thing noteworthy it is not from want of due circumspection or from the fear of be ing known as an American. , Our country men sucrifice a good deal to this consider ation. They 1:1)0muct, the pupils of their eyes to conceal their verdure, and strive to look as if they had trod these pavements TWO DOLLARS PEI[ ANNUM. INEW SERIES-NO, v. from a child. I know not why it is that in most of them there is such a reluctance to confess their country. When they do confess it, it is very much sit the fishermen from a certain town in New England were formerly said to report themselves, when the fishery was unsuccessful. "From A merica. good Lord !" Now I would not have them go to the opposite extreme and emulate those same fishermen in more prosperous circumstances ; but between the two there is a just medium of self respect which is sadly wanting. The oth er day at Windsor a countryman of mine, but a stranger to me, wrote against his name in the album for visters. "London, Hatiover square." I was not deceived; had never seen the man before, but I knew him at once, by certain decisive walks, to be an American and immediately address. ed him as such. It is in vain, my countryt You cannot be concealed. In vain you would assume the skin 'of the British lion.' vont' speech betraveth you. The transat lantic betrays itself in every accent, in ev ery movement. It betrays itself especial ly in a certain awkward consciousness, and indecision, a wain of self trust which even well-bred Amerieanh exhibit, when they come here, in their over anxiety to appear well, according to the English standard, and not violate the customs of the land. Americans in England are too fond to copy English manners and too die trustful of their 05%1, which are Often bet ter. Theom discovery that they have neg lected some paltry convention, however they might have been justified by rules of nniversal polimess in so doing, embarratt es them, it Mearnadines them,"makieg the green (in:! red " The Eiglishinm„ all hiS di-agreeable qualities, (and no nation has more of them) is always sellposeet- Ned. ' lie is always sure of his ground. , He has always hem t'ni%lit to believe that: lie is the in .81 civiL2af b dog, and the only civilized tieing is rite world. A.cordingly wherever he goes be Carries his conntry with him. He rejoices to he knoWn as . art Englishman: lie carries with him the c‘inviction that his own costoms,eve,the best, that his war of doing things is the true way. SO far from copying the man ners Of other countries, when abroad, he itt obstinately retennve of his Own. The Elglisliman always kimwti tiio . plit t fc. - : . Be he beggar or peer, he has his proper, Well ascertained and well defined position, which he understands and niakes the roost - Ile stands on his own buds Attd. stplids • firm. Hence a dignified carriage anteing all classes, which I have not semi equalled in any other nation. If the Americap would feel, at home. in England; he'ruust consent to be known as an. American, he must he proud to passlor such. He'MuSt assert Iris coatury with emplii;sia:;* and his country's customs, so far as consistent with universal good breeding. Ile shall not lack honor for his country's sake, if he will but seem to claim it on that ground, if he will but honor his country in himself. Let him but carry himself with half the dignity of an English footman and he shall prosper. The first impression which London makes on the stranger, especially an Amer ican, is not favorable. It is rather an im pression of disgust. The first thing we see in anv object or assemblance of objects presented to the eye is color. Now the color of London is one universal amuck. The fatal coal smoke Combining a ith the moist atmosphere paints all things with Otis foul tint. And the general squalor is enhanced by the original quality of the brick, so different from the smooth and clean looking parallellopiped known to us by that name. Not only the brick but the stone,—public buildings as welLas private, the noblestas well as the memest—all wear this horrid livery. St. Paul's is a huge black mass with oecasional white spots which show like leprosy on its face and Sides. The only htiiklingi Which please me are Neivgate Prison with whose stern char deter the dingy hue agrees, and the New Parliament house which has not yet.con trifeted it, and which is really a magnificent edifice. Hut in vain the eye seeks Scene thing clean and nice on which to repose. There is nothing nice in London but the White stockings of the crimsoned-breeched footmen. And these liveried footmen, to an' American eye—next to the dinginess - , -are the most characteristic feature of the p ace. Considered merely as a show, they are very pleasing apparkions. To be sure, the show will not bear analyzing or reflecting on. The livery 'iv a badge of servitude which - its gaudiness but renders the more di , gusting. May it never be come common with us ! The English 'may say what they please of American slavery—and they cm ItArdry paint it black er than it considering the difference in the races—the difference which exiets in our feeling if nowhere else—a Ifieried Saxon With his servile bravery. so marked amid the sober co:games of this age. stig geets a degredation us painful as anything whieh ni.pears iii pia' lie or the 7etriarebt. HI institution." And as the slaves to Mile &inherit Ones, • “.30 perfect is their misery, ' 4 Not once perceive Weir foal dnifistnernent." hut look with contempt on the free hltieki so these footmen are preeiselyNhe' estthe proudest, the most consequential p6reonagns one meets with in London.' I have been the round of the Lions. I hate spelt out the inscriptions in West: !Mosier Abbey, have ascended to the top of St. Pauli, have heard the Lords and the Commons, stared at the jewels in theToiv er and touched the edge of the axe that they- ered Anne Boleyn's head. 1 will notifies ry you with these nor tell you all I tho4ht or felt while viewing them and "doing!' them. I will only remark that in the "Po et's corner" in Westminster Abbey, Lwas more disturbed with what is not, than gratified with what is. I had coricsvie. ed of it as a perfect gallery of Bitglielit poets ; and so it ought to be. But the eM ry important omissions are altogetluir its* compatible with this character. :14..vimg of a monument to Pope and doluntint (who is" represented in Eh. AMP* bet OS here) was partientioli,AistreesistOf . tamy use the first Word Which went& ••114:• thing-whieh pleased me best haw. in the, Abbey was an inscription on nee of
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers