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