Newspaper Page Text
4, it A. lIVERLE.R, Burroß AND PROPRIETOR.
VO L. ;, V i
From the National En.
WOROIII OP HOPE.
erelli ye from your reterf
--tlimparef-tetteeye from your sleep!
-Wrong awl Vitti...in" virtue's livery,
Wend ye like the serpents creep
• on Ibturity--
• ' Om *lns the day-spring bright !
Yelmayoekknow joy and purity—
' badmen may he changed to light !
Ood Arlo n ot, though sleeps humanity-
MMus he Rill in Fire and Clow!:
" . ''llreiteen is not it east inanity—
• Eat* hi more than mankind's shroud !
Alloed is lit our lace, though hidden—
Peace is mightier far than strife e
Eulls yiot yet be made like Eden--
Hiseeithet.veathed la mortal life 1
Thom Is nought so high and holy,
kith, Hope which conquers Pain :
rn yourselves, re Mashed and lowly,
Lierierthil power to rise again !
_not that which startle', reason—
Good cem ne'er be gained by ill ;
'AU thatithaitis,•or clouds, is treason s
- tiought is powerful but "1 wits. !"
Would ye read the Eternal mystery I
Uke Badmen' view the day
Byes that best discern God's mystery
Were anointed first with clay.
Game from well-depths up to heaven,
And ye see the stars at noon—
Thus to lowly sense is given
Reasons best and richest boon !
Piot one pain dearth's material
Everwae, or will be, loot—
And shall man's great soul, °Olefin!,
Be to dark oblivion loot
BoWty ark, reluctant Raw!
Truth a appeal must mount on high :
Each great word--mteh feeble whicorr—
Once breathed out, can NEVER DIE
From the Knickerbocker
Mae to him that aakcth they!
If the poor man pass thy door,
(live him of thy bounteous store;
Hive him food, •nd give him gold,
(Jive him shelter from there'd
Aid him his lone life to live,
For angeblike to give.
]'hough world riche, thou hut not,
Gift to third poorer lot:.
Think thee of the widow'. mite,
In the Holy Master'. eight :
It was more, ■ thousand fold
Than the rich man's hoard of gold
Give ! it is the better part ;
Give to hlm, the poor in heart ;
Give of love in large degree,
live of hope and sympathy ;
Cheer to them who sigh fur corn,
bight to him whose life is gone..
Give the gmy.haired wanderer room ;
Lem, him gently to the tomb;
• Let him not in friendless clime,
Float idown the tide of time;
near the mother's lonely call,
Mee, the dearest one of all.
And the lost, abandoned one,
ihrtiy - liathwerdri Anti
Of thy kindnesi she bath need ;
bind with balm the bruised reed;
Give and gifts above all price,
t4hall be thine in Paradise.
THE LITTLE GIRL
There is nearly in front of our office, an
old pum p—a kind of, townputnp which
every one may use, and whose wet and be
spattered base speaks plainer than sign
lamed, could do, of water for man and horse
—and a very excellent pump it is, ma--
never mit of order, easily worked, and fur
nishin,g die purest, coolest water in the
World. Many a thirsty school-boy, and
omnibus driver has refreshed himself at
that pump—the haekinen and draymen
stop there, sad the old iron ladle that hangs
by its sidle has been pressed to many a
'sweet and pretty lip. It is no unusual
thing, just after school hours, to see some
hide follow, with his satchel over his shout
der, working away at the handle for ten
minutes at a time, till all who have gather
ed round it have been supplied with drink;
but_ yesterday the old pump wad honored
as though an angel had blessed it.
A roity,cheeked girl, her face half hid
in i'llood of glorious curls, came bouncing
by, driving her hoop, as the old, decrepid
apple Woman, whom every body knows,
and whom no one passes without giving
her a penny, was endeavoring to obtain a
drink. She had sat down her basket but
bent nearly' double by the weight of her
years and sorrows, was still compelled to
lean npOn her staff. The little plebe saw
.the difficulty, and was in au instant at the
handle. Holding, the ladle until it was fil
led, she carried it gently to the lip of the
lady,old then fi lled it again, while the
warm, gratefid thanks ofthe poor woman
chilled"the crimson to her 6hOck, Whieh as
.a ell hurried away was deepened by the
,:C.MW4Pll 2 ness that she was observed.
We shall ever remember that girl. and
.The joyous satisfaction with which she
performed s good and kind "action to
' Atte med. • The scene, and the hearty
.theallti4 the the old lady, call forcibly to
414 ued'liot altogether inappropriately,
the 00tutOul thought itt Telfourd's tragedy
--41 t lc a little thing
o t alp or water, pit its draught,
Of 904 gicibeetuneni, drained by *Tared lips,
pfqand i !Pock of Measuni tq the sold
thaw When necierioue juice
Natima eel* of joy in happiest bone
A BIikIIIIIVL EnTAPIIoT-AT•li MUM'S
yrld - ht this chyle ateadstone, withthese
ends; Our dear hide ilaby;" • and
, shesnarble upon which affection ,has out
the *solstice, is as smelt Andes pure as an
infant. Surely, here, is perfection in an
,epitaph ! The age of a dying child is no•
thing, and need not be recorded ; and what
is there in a name when the heart.yearns
:for the form. This littlq stone hag no
mark.for curiosity, and cold histoiy Would
. frown on it : but a parent—any parent—
entering the graveyard Where that baby
, reatir, and that small marble tablet may
2 44, would carfully avoid treading on
the little grave, and yet would stand there,
conjuring up the once bright eyes of that
baby fixed on a mother's love, and its
ants opening for .a fathers fondness ;
and then, alas, the dimming of those eyes,.
and the drooping of those arms—the si
lence.and what more sad, of a dead child ;
i—and the father and mother 'bereft of all
hut this cry of nature—" Oar dear little
A OCOTCHMAN'B Moritz TO HIS
'Ott kaving home for a Mardi,* saw:.
Now, daughtor L 'Et haet Just fimrtistals
itiliiiii liii - Ediiihurg t—ye hi r e to)earrr to
manage your' head, your hands, your feet,
and your heart. . ,Your head will require ti
little reddiug up,' baith outside and inside.
Its no' the bobs and curls, the ribbons and
the rose-knots, the gildot kames, and the
toppings u' weel-sleekit-up•Mir , that are to
stand the test for life. ' and yet these are a'
becoming in th ir places. But there is
something else mired.. -Ns maim learn
to think for pot If and act (or:yourself.
for ye canna always Nee ybiffiliothei and
me to think and atit , fini you.' Ye main
learn wade& -and-weighouttu , I io. r
own actions, . f your motives of action, as
well as It - .> parent motives
of those wits whom yon haveto deal: and
stick aye by that, my child, of which you
are sure nerbr to be ashamed, either in
this world, or the one that's to come.
If ever ye lie spared to be a wife, there
will be mair dependance on your head than
your hands ; but yet. ye are nee the waur
o' being able to cook your family a neat
dinner, and make yourself a new gown at
oura time, or a frock to a wee bit ane.
• But now for the heart, daughter—that is
what requires the maist care, and, the
maist watching ower of all ; and there is
naught else that I am so unqatified - twee
advice in. Keep it aye free u' malice, ran
cor and deceit; and as to the forming of
any improper connexions. or youthful par
tialities, it is sae dangerous at your time
of life, that no advice nor guardianship can
countervail. I mean, therefore, to leave it
entirely to your own discretion and good
I might have meant the management of
the tongue as another, and a separate point
of attention ; but it is a mere machine,
and acts only in subordination to the head
and the heart, and if these are kept in pro
per order, the other winna tin far wrung.
But dintia be ewer the matter punctual a;
bout catching the snappy English pronun
ciations. It looks rather affected in a coup:
try girl to be always snapping at the Eng
ine; and the - sete time popping in na
auld Scotch phrase that she learned in the
nursery, for it is impossible to get quit
o' them. But mind aye thite, my child,
that good sense is well faured and becoming
in whatever dialect it be spoken ; and tine's
mother tongue suits always the lips of ei
titer a bonny lass or an auld earl the best.
ANECDOTE OF STEPHEN GIRARD
following capital anecdote, illustra
tive of the late Stephen Girard, si6l'llila
delphia, is from the New BedfortiVercu-
.. Mr. -Girard—had-4 -favorite—clerk, one
who every way pleased him, and who,
when at the age of twenty-one years ex
pected Mr. Girard to say something to him
in regard to his future prospects, and per
haps lend him a helping hand in starting
hint in the world. But Mr. Girard said
nothing, carefully avoiding the subject of
his escape from minority. At length, af
ter the lapse of some weeks, the clerk mus
tered courage enough to address Mr. Gi.
rani -upon the subject:
" I suppose, sir," said the clerk, "I am
free, and I thought I would say something
to von as to toy future course. ‘Yhat do
you think I had better do?"
"Yes, yes, I know you are." said Mr.
Girard, "and my advice to you is that you
go and learn the cooper's trade."
This announcement well nigh threw the
clerk off the track ; but recovering his e
quilibrium, he said if Mr. Girard was in
earnest, he would do so.
"I am in earnest"—and the clerk rather
hesitatingly sought one of the beat coopers
and agreed with him upon the terms of ap
prenticeship, and went at it in good earnest,
and in course of time made as good a barrel
as any one, He went andtold Mr—Girord
that ho-had graduated with all the honors
of the craft, and was ready to set up his
business ; at which the old man seemed
gratified, and told him to make three of
the best barrels he could. The young
cooper selected the best materials, and
song put into shape and finish, three of the
best barrels, and wtroeled them up to the
old man's counting room. Mr. Girard
said the barrels werefirst rate and demand
ed the, price.
"One dollar,". said the clerk, "is as tow
as I can lire by:"
"Cheap enough," said his employer,
"make out you bill and present it."
' And now comes the cream of the whole.
Mr. Girard drew a check for twenty thow.
sand dollars,-and handed it to the clerk,
closing with these words :
"There, take that, and invest it in the
best possible way, and if you are unfortu
nate and loose it, you have a good trade to
fidt back upon,, which Will afford vitt a
good living at all times."
NeekaalTy or TROTit.--WO are so con
stituted, that obedience to the law of vera
city is absolutely- necessary to our happi
ness. Were we to loose either our feeling
of obligation to tell the truth, or our dispo
'hien to receive as truth whatervenlis told to
us, there would at once be an end to all
science add all knowledge, beyond that,
whhli every man hadobiamed by hie own
personidobservation and experience. No
man could'profit by the diecoveries of his ,
eenteuiporariesi much less by the discov
eiies of those men who have gone before
idu. Language would be useless, and we
should be but little removed from the brutes.
Every one must be aware, upon the !slight
est reflection, that a community of entire,
liars could not, exist in, irstate of society.
The •effects of such a course of conduct
upon the whole, show us what is the. will
of the Creator in the individual ease.—Dr.
BEAUTIFUL LVISMAL.-.-.111 Longfellow's
Hyperion, that casket of rare and spark
ling genie, we have the following moral de
duction Pam the story of the hero :—Look
not mournfully into the past—it come" not
back again. Wisely' irnproie the,present
—it is thine. .00 forth p) meet the shad
owy future, without feu, anti with tt man
'.;....a.:.E7.7T8iriT46 1 ... FA.... F..a1pA . y..' . .ty.gx.iN0i..,0.c.T.:0,81t.i15; 1847,
DROWNING.- 11 .The fiiliosii4l. hang Utter ,ail , drownintikfate, I was now tortured by
by Madrid trailed i to Dr. Wellastoth in the pain all over, 1R01; and though I have been
of SirJeltif Bancer # jwit,i4lishail in ainee'itTounded in...twilit places, aid ,taitif
beedent....... -. .~. ..._.___:-....- ... . Often, enbraitted-.10-senre. _aoszioal Aingi; - .
HMany , yeare ago, .when .I. was syotmg- , Ph" , yet my antraringl- were at that time
ster on board one °chi' `Majesty's ships, far greater ; at least, in general distress..
in Portsmouth Harbor, after sculling about On one occasion I war shot in the lungs,
in a-very small,boat, iwas endeavoringn to and after IYaffon she deck at night for
fasten her alongside the ship to one of the some hours, b leeding from other wounds,
scuttle-rings ;. in foolish eagerness I step- lat length fainted. Now, as I felt sure
pad upon the gunwale, the boat of course that the monad in the lungs was mortal, it
upset, and I fell into the Water, and, not will appear obvious that the overwhelming
k now i ng , h o w to swim, all my 4 orts to sensation which accompanies fainting must
lay hogeither of the boat or of the float have preduced a peal* conviction that I
ing sculls were fruitless. The transactio wail in the act, of dying. Yet nothing in
had not.been observed by the sentinel on the least resembling the operations of my
the_gangway, and therefm it war; not gii mind when drowning then took place ;kind
'life niliiiiiffffiega'ai aciiiiiii4ii iiiiit
ia6in - ' Whani begarr - tollonwsr, I returned-to n
of the ship that , a 'mati in the ftft•ekip saw clear c a ff f VP de n o f Ira state."
me splashing ift the witiat•icad gave thO'l'l - 'MEMORY RE 1 4---- T DEATH.
!arm. The first lieutenant instantly and Sir &Wel Cooper relates the ease of a
gallantly , jumped overboard, the carpenter sailor who was received into St, Thomas's
followed his example, and the gunner his- Hospital, in a state of stupor from an inju
tened into a boat and pulled after them. ry in the head, which had continued some
With the violent and vain attempts .to months. After an operation he suddenly
make myself heard I had swallOwed much recovered, so far as to speak, but no one
water; I was soon exhausted by lay strug- in the hospital understood hie language.—,
glee, and before any relief reached me I But a Welsh milk-woman happening to
ad sunk below the surface ; all hope had come into the ward, answered him, for he
fled, all exertion ceased, and,' fth that 1 spoke Welsh, which was his native lan
was drowning. - - . gunge. He had, however, be,en absent
“So-far these facts were either partially from Wales more than thirty years, and
remembered after my recovery, or supplied previous to the accident had entirely for
by those who had latterly witnessed the gotten Welsh, although he now spoke
scene ; for during an interval of such agi- lit fluently, and recollected not a single
tation a drowning person is too much oc- 1 word of any other tongue. Oa hie perfeet
cupied in catching at every passing straw,' iecovery, he again completely forgot his
or too much absorbed by alternate hope Welsh, and recovered his English.
and despair, to mark the succession of e- An Italian gentleman, mentioned by Dr.
vents very accurately. Not so, however, Rush, in the beginping of an illness spoke
with the facts which immediately ensued ; English ; in the middle of it French ; but,
my mind had then undergone the sudden on the day of his death, spoke only Italian.
revolution which to , you appeared so re- A. Lutheran clergyman, of Philadelphia, '
markable ; and all the circumstances of l informed Dr.. - Rush that Germans and
which are now as vividly fresh in my me- Swedes, of whom he had a large number
mory as if they had occurred but yesterday. , in his congregation, when near death, al
"From the moment that all exertion had ' ways prayed in their native languages,
ceased—which I intagine_was. the home- though some of them, he was confident,-
' diate consequence of complete suffocation had not spoken them for fifty or sixty
—a calm feeling of the most perfect Iran- years. An ignorant servant girl. mention
quility succeeded the previous tumultuous ed by Coleridge, during the delirium of fe
sensations. -.lt might be called apathy, ver,_ repeated, with
certainly not resignation, for drowning no passages from a nuuiber of theolOgiial
_longer seemed anvil...- I no-longer thought works in Latin, Greek, and Rabbinical
of being rescued, nor was lin any bodily Hebrew. It was at length discovered that
pain. On the contrary, my sensations she had been a servant to a learned clergy
were now of rather a pleasurable cast, par- man, who was in the habit of walking
taking rather of that dull but contented sort, backward and forward along a passage by
of feeling which precedes the sleep prude- I the kitchen, and theic reading aloud his
cod by fatigue. Though the senses were' favorite authors.
thus deadened, not so the mind; its activ
ity seemed to be invigorated in a ratio that
defies all description—for thought rose af
ter thought with a rapidity of succession
that is not only indescribable, but probably
inconceivable, by any one who has not
himself been in a similar situation. The
course of those,thoughts I can even now
in a great measure retrace: The everit
which had just taken place—the awkward
ness that had produced it—the bustle it
must have occasioned, (for I had observed
two persons jump from the chains,)—the
effect it would have on a most affectionate
father—the manner in which lie would dis
close it to the rest of the family—and a
thousand other circumstances minutely as
sociated with home—were the first series
pf reflections that occurred. They took
I then a wider range: Our last cruise—a
firmer voyage, and shipwreck—my school
—the progress I. bad made there, and the
time I had misspent—and even all my
boyish pursuits and adventures. Thus
travelling backwards, every past incident
of my life-seemed to glance across my re
collection in retrograde succession; not,
however, in mere outline, as here stated,
but the picture filled up with every minute
and collateral feature; in short, the whole
period of my existence seemed to be placed
before me in a kind of panoramic review,
and each act of it seemed to be accompa
nied by a consciousness of right or wrong,
or by some reflection on its cause or con-
sequences ; indeed, many trifling events,
which had long been forgotten, then crowd
ed into my imagination, and with the char
acter of recent familiarity.
..May not this be some indication of the
infinite power of memory with which we
may awaken in another world, and thus be
compelled. to contemplate our past lives I
Or might it not in some degree warrant
the inference that death is only a change or
modification of our existence, in which
there is no real pause or interruption ?
But., however--that may be, ope circum
stance was highly remarkable=that the in
numerable ideas that flashed into my mind
mfr. -all retrospective ; yet I had been re
[Fly brought up ; my hopes and fears
next world had lost nothing of their
y strength, and at any other period in
tense interest and awful anxiety would
have been excited by the mere probability
that I was floating on tne threshold of e-
ternity yet at that inexplicable moment,
when I had a full conviction that .I hadal-
ready cro s sed that threehold, not a single
thought wandered into the future-1 was
wrapt entirely in the past.
"The length of time that was occupied
by this deluge of ideas, or rather the short,
nose of time into whieh they were con
densed, 1 cannot now state With precision,
ytt,certainly two minutes could not hare
elapsed (Mut the moment if suffocation to
that of my being hauled up.
"The strength of thuliumd tide made It
expedient to pull the boat at once to anoth
er ship, wherel underwent •the usual rul-
gar process.of emptying the water, by let
ting my head hang downwards, then
bleeding, chafing, and even administering
gin.; but my submersion -had been really
so brief, that, according -to the account of
the lookers on, I was very quickly -resto
red to animation.
"My feelings while life was returning
Were the reverse in every point of those
which have been describe above. One
single but confused Ulea—a miserable be-
jitif that I was drowning—dwelt upon my
mind, instead of the multitude of clear and
lelinite ideas which had recently rushed
!trough it ; a helpless anxiety, a kind of
continuous nightmare, seeined to press
heavily on every sense, and to prevent the
formation of any one distinct thought, and
it was with difficulty that I became con
vinced that I was really alive. Again, in•
stead of being free from all bodily pain, as
"FEARLESS AND FREE."
Dr. Abercrombie relates the case of a
child, four years ago, who underwent the
operation of trepanning while in a state of
profound stupor from a fracture of the
skull. After his recovery, the, patient
retained no recollection either of the
operation or accident; yet at the age
of fifteen, during the delirium of a fever,
he gave tie waiter an wen' deseription
of the operation, of the persons present,
their dress, and many °dies minute parti
culars. Dr. Pritchard mentions a man
who had been employed with a beetle and
wedges splitting wood. At night he put
these implements in the hollow of an old
tree, and directed his sons to accompany
him the next morning in making a fence.
to the night. however, he became mad.—
After several years his reason returned,
and the first question he asked was, wheth
er his 'sons had brought home the beetle
and wedges. They, being afraid to enter
into an explanation, said they could not'
find them; on which he arose, went to
the field where lie had been accustomed to i
Work so many years before, and found in
the place where he had left them, the
wedges and the iron rings of the beetle,
the wooden part having mouldered away. ►
LIR.. FRANKLIN AND Mmes.—The Al
exandria Gazette says :-6•Titles in the U.
States," has called to mind an anecdote
which Mr. Jefferson used to tell, in relation
to the subject, which is authentic and too
good to be lost. The anecdote has been
repeated to us by one who heard Mr. Jef.
ferson mention it. In the Convention for
forming the Constitution of the U. Suttee,
it was proposed that tides should be given
to the high officers of the Government; and
the proposition met with favor. The dis
cussion had gone on for some time, when
Dr. Franklin arose, and with great gntvity.
remarked—"that as this matter seemed to
be seriously entertained, and might be 1
ried; he had to suggest one hide which
- would be new and appropriate—it was a
title for the Vice President—and it was, I
'His Most tufierfluous Highness !' There
was not eauttikutore said about titles atter
YAWXEE ENTIIIIPRISE..-40frtiell. the
mat British reviewer, - seems to have
thought the Yankees were "some." It is
said he once remarked that it was his firm
belief that if a. premium of a thousand dol
lars were offered for the best translation
of the Greek Bible. it would be %ken by a
Yankee, who, till the offer was made, had
never seen a word of Greek:4l,Mo life.—
Ile would commence learning the language
immediately, to qualify himself for the
great . undertaking, and would finish the
whole work quicker than any other person
and bear off the premium..
Arrasst..-4. nun ought, in his clothes,
to CQllfOrUl something to those that he con
verses with,-to the customof - the nation,
and the fashion that' is decent and general,
to "the occasion, and his own condition ;
Id that iebest that best snits with one's
calling, and the rank we live in.' And see
ing all men are not (Edipuses to read the
riddle of ,another man's inside, and most
men judge by appearances, it behooves a
man to barter for a good esteem, even
from his clothes and outside. We guess
the geoclneas_ of the pasture by the mantle
we BCC it wears.—FELTIIAM.
A CsusTic••llrr.—Piron the French
author, having been taken up by the watch
of the night in the streets of Paris,
was carried, 011 the following morning, be
a Lieutenant of the police, who haught
interrogated him concerning his buai
nese or profession.
"I am a poet, sir," said Piron.
"Olt ! a poet, are you 1" said the ma
gistrate, "I have a brother who is poet." •
"Then we are even, said ('iron, "fur 1 1
have a brother who is a foul."
From a low English PiPa•
A PITEQUP YRAQEI)Y,
A realintlow-ofihe stmorofilinevrir
-trested-both by Hedgers and Stieliy,-14
of then ong of the . .. Mistimed Sough," oc
curred at Glascow on Saturday- last.—
Three voung boys, two of-them sons 'of
' Mr. I. Wilson; builder, Gallitsgate,' and
the other the eon of his brother, Mr.' Charles I
Wilson, were lost. As the rest of the
family were dolin to the water, the boys'
absence at first occasioned no alarm, ap it
wits supposed that the youngsters, %heel&
eat of whom was about 11 years of age,
had set off to join their mother and the rest
of the family. As nothing had been'heard
of them, Mr. Warren left home early yes
iertlay of pro
ceeding to Heleneburg, *ere t he &may
'were to ascertain if the 'rattail - rill - Were
there. He had not been gone long away,
When a carter, who take, care of a horse
belonging to Mr. Wilson, went to, the sta.
Me for the purpose of procuring some
provender fbt the animal. The'provender
is kept in a corn chest—a box six feet long
and about three deep, with three separate
compartmente, and secured on the outside
with an iron hasp, which fits into a 'staple
in the side of the chest.
On opening the lid, the man was horror
stricken at finding the three boys motion
less at the bout= of the chest, each occu
pying one of the compartments, He im.
mediately summoned assistance, and they
were-taken out_t_ butit_w_as_fontulAtat
Jiques Wilson, aged 11, and Charles Wil
son, about a year younger, were quite
dead, and bad been so apparently for a
considerable length of time. The young:
est, a boy , between seven and eight years,
showed some signs of life, and by prompt
medical attendance he gradually revived,
so as to be able • to state what led to the
melancholy catastrophe. The brothers
and cousin had gone into the chest in
search of beans; and while so engaged the
lid, which, as , hats-been already stated, is
secured on the outside by an iron hasp fit
ting into a staple, closed on them. In fal
-1 ling ' the hasp. as it most unfortunately
happened. fixed into the staple,4ml 011 the
milted atrengh lif - the poor - captives - was .
insufficient to enable them to burst the
bonds of what, too truly; proved their
On the side at which the youngest boy
was'found, the lid did not fit so close as
the other parts, and to the limited supply
of air which had been admitaed through this
. crevice is to be attributed his preservation.
They had endeavored to support . each
other's courage as well as they could in
their dismal dungeon. and before giving up
hope one of them broke the blade of a pen
knife in the attempt to make an incision
through the side of the chest. Afier they
,had exhausted themselves with unavailing
shouts-and cries, whielrwere-am.heartl-on
earth, they all joined in prayer. This is
the last circumstance which the surviving
strfferer recollects, as he soon after became,
insensible. To accounttor no noise hav
ing been heard, it may be mentioned that
the wood yard in which the stable is,situa
led is locked up early on Saturday after
noon, aiid is not again entered till Monday
Elihu Burritt, in one of his letters from
England, furnishes the following brief
sketch of the Anti-Corn Law League :
"Cobden, arose—not to speak' for the
spice of several minutes, but to stand up
in affecting silence before the assembly
who would have drowned the voice of
a trumpet before the swelling peals of ap
plause with which they greeted the Napo
leon of moral revolution. Several times
he essayed to speak, but before he could
trams his lips to the' utterance 'of a word,
the multitude would burst-forth anew with
another volume of cheers. I saw his clear.
spirit speaking eye fill with tears, on thus
being interrupted the third time in his ef
forts to make himself heard. There
stood the meekest looking man I ev
er saw fronting a public assembly, and in
the meekest attitude. He stood with his
slight form inclining forward, with one of
his thin pale hands hanging by the fore
finger front a button hole in the left breast
of his coat, and with the other resting on
a corner of the speaker's desk as if for
support; he-looked the very impersona
tion of timid modesty. His whole atti
tude and sppearance reminded me of some
humble member of the Methodist churilt,
in America; arising in one of their 'class
meetings to Malkin. experiemmu in a eon-1
trite spirit. And that was England's forti
most man ! Among the heroes her annals
have numbered, that soft voiced revolutiow
ist stood the 'highest in the people's geed
tudi ! For England hattbecome a people
and he the people's man, and this was the
hour of his coronation. The first words
he uttered felt upon dte listening multitude
in tones of querulous tnothtlatkm. They
were uttered with child-tika'
and were tremulous with- the emotion he
I • ' WOMAN.
not hers to goklathe storM of war,
I To nisi the Math._or thrinder at ttki3 bar;
T° sit with teen in legislative ball:
To goverti realms, or nark their rise and fall.
those things are not for her ;—'tis woman's care,
Alone to rear the - shootsthat flourish there ;
To wipe the starting tear from childhood's eye,
j To sooth his little woes, his wants supply
ro guard his morals with unceasing care,
And bend for him the suppliant knee in prayer;
' , Then give him in his full and perfect worth,
To serve the land that smiled upon his birth.
A PROLIFIC %. , oNTiusuirrat.--W hat would
the newspapers do if Rumor was to strike,
and declare she would not write another
line ? Take away Rumor, and scarcely a
newspaper would live. If Rumor was
paid for every thing that appeared in her
name, what a deal of money she would
make.at a penny-alining. •
,I; is but reisonahle to bear that accident
patiently which God sends, since impa
tience does.but entangle us, like the flatter
ing of a bird in a net, but cannot al all ease'
our troublo,, or prevent the accident; it
must be nut, through, and therefore it were
better we compose ourselves to patient
than to a troubled and miserable suffering.
Billsop Jeremy Taylor.
• Miss Polly Dolly Adelina
• 'Amelia Agnes Low,
Wattlione-of Nature's Journeymen's
Onehiaell'd work, I trow.
Her. forehead was as smooth as glass,
• Her mouth was a straight line,
And her eyes stood out as visibly
'As letters on a sign.' •
• The "Venus of the Capitol"
Was taller than Miss Low, •
But, then Miss Low's diameter
Made up for it, you know ;
And tho' she was the "mould of form,"
• And wore unrival'd shoes,
Her waist was noninvisible,
And her feet wore "made to use."
'T was itaid.Miss Polly Dolly Low
- Watt waking to• disclaim'
The last sweet monosyllable
Of her romantic. name ;
And - every Ounday evening
r she comb'd her golden hair,
'And at the window, pensively,
Bat "sighing to the air.
And Cupid, little rogue, was kind,
That is so often cruel.
And to Miss Polly Dolly'. dame
If, sent a stick of fuel
A tall and handsome man was he,
The reigning village beau, •
That made his bow one evening
To Polly Dolly Low. -•
Re took a chair and sidled up,
And said, "I guess as how
You think, Mims Polly Adeline,
I've come 'to court you now."-
"I hnow'd mid the overcome-- -
Mira Polly, "long ago"— ,
- And onlits neck
Affectionate Misr Low r
And thiwitoiltp. quite test Of Mentb. •
• lihnitig EbettessrlMen4 -,-
Anti spoke agein:_ltittsamt If hew
You didn't hear 00-r
I . •
thank-you kindly tor.yptnk!"
But 1 aar sot,yete• hos-,
't was brother' Jerk yds / , "
Miss Polly Dolly Lnek "
A DASFSAAWIT 4AIVERt s ; '
'Tore i i a knurl' in I moot' awfhl itioedltion, , end
all owing to a alren iftigfrt eiyingthewould'atx ,
I ktiodf 'tilt a aitt, '
But Put bent eilthe
I'll throw anyieWinaa • _ _
7 7 Thikleep 4 ilk,
I:Vbere,nurd - take. 01:noi lb& • •-• •• :
bn my body obi riot,
And floundeni arid flit fish •
Seleetnit fbr diet; • ---- .
!tenoned the rinigif
And crab/ without number •
t3holl fluty! o'er my pillow, ,
But my spirit Khali thro' flayeand hewers,
And frisk with dur• untriuttWo , ..4l Atli, by the
A swims of bees contain from ten thou- .
sand to twenty thousand.in anaturaistate,
and twenty thousand' to forty thonsand in ,
I f4POMMVIITIF battevndlo - ennalsroOlor=
table flesh full of small mouths, by whieh
they absorb and eject water. .
sloth does not advance above a
hundred yards in a day. ' It is two days in
climbing and descending a tree.
Insecrrs breathe through holes or pores
on each side of every , segment of the abdo
men, called spiracpla. ' -
The gall-fly forms the rill nuts tn , teees
and plants-by its egp,.and yptitittoßti.the
gad-fly does tks nu the shin, of cattle.
A -ugaziliv- liver -weighs nelitl7 fent
pounds, but diseased ones' become) our or
five times heavier.
Thai human brain is the
of the body,.but the, his* of a hum is but
a feur hundredth.
Orro of roses is the oil whieh swims
on top in the distillation of rose wiser.
BIRD lime is prepared from the , berries
of the mistletoe, and the middle bark of the
hollr ; it is boiled till it becdriies ink
no bunion body, in a healthy *tete, is
generally at'oB° Fahrenheit.
The heat of` an &veil, applied to a dead
human body, for twelve days, reduces it
from 120 to 12 pounds.
Tits earth is believed to increase in
heat a degree' in every fifteen or twenty
yards in depth.
Tux waters of the Read sea nppear to
be thirty-two feet higher than,the hlediter
ranean---and the Gulf of Mexico, is twen
ty-eight feat lower then the Pacific.
MOOT mountains present their precipi
tous faces to the se; and their slopes to
the land. 4 0t.'"
'F n s sea is to the had, in round 'millions
of square miles, as one hundred and sixty
eight tolitty; foie to One.
Tax narrowest port of the Atlantic is
more thaa' la other parts
it is one and a half miles,
kaisers are found in •slate, and flies and
onto in amber..
THil. highest peak of the Rocky inourt
lairts is 11,500 feet, and Jaine's Peak is
Tit* mountains of Seger, in . Arabia, pro
duee frankincense ; and those of Serra, the
baltn of Mecca, from the amyris opobalsa
trigiik which in the early ages sold for its
weight in gold.
EARTH is eaten as /tread in several parts
of the world. Near Moscow, a hill fur
nishes earth of this description, whieh will
ferment when mixed with flour.
LOVE OF THE Senzaxs.'--A mostremark
able instance of animal sagacity has occur
red at the village. of Rustington, near Arun
del, in Sussex. Out ern lane leading from
the village tit the sea: a cow has been ob
servedm emerge daily a little before high
water, arid to walk down on the sands, and
take up a position about fifty yards from
the rising tide ; there she would stand, e
vincing every sympton of pleasure, till the
'waves reached her feet, and then she would
very leisurely retire to her pasture again.
Ono morning she had not bee Mable to get
to the sea side till very nearly high water,
and she was seen running down the lane,
to the beach in great haste, as if afraid of
being too late to enjoy her aeoustoined
treat! Such aninstance we helve to be
unparalleled in natural history. Doubtless ,
her sensitive ears would give due warning ,
of the advancing waters when grazing in
her quiet pasture ; but it seems very diffi
cult to account for the animal's proceedings,l
except we entertain the idea, that it bad a
true perception of, and admiration for, “the
sublime and the beuutiluV
TWO DOLLAEB PER ANNU3C:
INEW SERIES -NO .
(From the Pietionel tutelage Dow
GENERAL TAYLO D.—..We have ireeeired
from Dr. Raoxson, the gentleman to whom him
eddresied, a copy of the following lettotkoze.asn.
ersi TATLON, with a re. guest for its iniieitieh fifth*
Intelligencer—a request. which we cheerfnEY \ aud
readily comply with:
lizsimuswrins A 'INIT ov OCCUP , ITTOX.
Camp near Monterey, August 10, 11140.
SIR : Your letater of the 17th ultisio, re
questing of me art exposition of rorikws
on the questions of national policy ndw at
issue between tt. e political parties Cd'the
United States, b is duly reached me. ..• „
I must take occasion to say thainiiny
of my letters, :iddressed to gentlemen in
the United Stales in answer to similtin
'quiree;ltaie aireatly been made ptiblie,ind
• I had great% loped that all persons inter
ested had, by this time, obtained from them
a sufficiently accurate - knowledge of t iny
views and detoires in relation this sobject.
As it appears., however, that, suchls not
the mile. I c 1 !em it proper, in reply to your
'letter. distinctly to >Teat that /ern not be.
fire the people of the United Slates a
candfdatefnr the next Presidency. le is
thy great desire to return at the close of
this war to thii ilis , diarge of those proks.
alonee dutimi and to the enjoyment of those
domestic pursuits from which I was called
at its commencement, and for which tit y
tastes and education best fit me.
I deem it but due to candor to state;at
the same - time. that, if I were called to the
Tividdential Chair by the general troieltref
thepeople without regard to their pots:cal
1 - drencee, I should deem it my duty to
accept the cacti'. But while I freely avow
my attachment to the administrative policy
of otir early Prmidents, I desire it to be
r underatood that I cannot submit, even in
otheraccepting it, to the exaction of any
Other pledge as to the course I should pur
sue emu that of discharging its. functions
To the best of my ability, and strictly in ac
cordance with the requiremehts of the eon-
Uhive thus given you the circumstances
under which only can I be induced to ac
eept the high and responsible office of
President of the United saltes. I need
rdly add that I cannot in any case per-
grit myself to be brought before the people
by any of the political parties that now so
tinkirtunately divide our country; as their
candidate for this office.
It affords me great pleasure, in condo.
'Rion, fully to concur with yon in your'high
and just . estimate of the virtues, both of
head and heart, of the distinguished chi
aens (Messrs. CLAY, WEBSTER, ADAMS.
MeDome, and CALHOUN) mentioned in
your letter. I have never yet exercised
the privilege of voting ; but had I been
• called upon at the last Presidential election
l 6 do co, I should most certainly have
cast my vote for Mr. clay.
14114.sizonry_reupeetfully your obedient son%
Major Genonil U. S. Army.
F. 8. iluonsow, M. D., Charleston, 8. C.
NAQATILY AND TUN DUXE.-A little in.
°WOO ; will show you the estimation in
which Mr. Macaulay is held in Paris.—
Many' months ago, I was walking in the
rtitreet with a literary man of some distinc.
tion ; a Splendid English equipage dashed
Olt Mi. and I observed, "There goes the
Duke of—," "Bah !" cried the French
man, "what do I care for your dukes rr-
A few minutes after, we met a plainly
dressed gentleman, with an umbrella under
his arni . and a book in his hand, trudging
'slang in the mud, with boots and dress by
.no means calculated to look well in the
boudoir of a duchess. "There's Macau
lay !" said I. "Macanly !" echoed the
Frenchman, "Ah ! let's have a good look
at him !" And to got a good look at the
brilliant writer, and great Parliament m
otor, the Frenchman walked as near him
its possible for about live minutes.— French
Correspondent of the .Edinburg Register.
THE RKTORT couirrEoes.—At the Uni
versity election, Mr. Butt, the well keown
ppliticaLharrister, made a poignant retort
upon M. Shaw. On the day of nomina
tion, after Mr. Butt had addressed the elec
wit, Mr. Shaw said: "Speaking, not as
an Oxford graduate, hut as an Irish gentle
man, I will say that Mr. Butt's speech
proves nothing but the vulgarity of his own
nature, which not even an education at this
university could refine." Mr. Butt had
no opportunity of replying till some time
after, when he took care to tell the Record
er, "That it was a great pity, when he
had secured a retiring pension of three
thousand per annum oil the consolidated
And, that he had not also managed to put
his tongue on the civil list."
TwsoT, a modern writer, asserts that of
all causes that hove injured the health 'of
vvomen, none has been more deleteriott •
thon the prodigious multiplication of ro
minces during the last eenturr. Females,
ivhose constitutions would hare been ro
bust, have been weakened gradually by the
two strong impressions of impitilotted
writings. The tender romances hinder,
instead of promoting marriages. A . wt)-
nt 4 n, while her .heart is warmed brat&
languor of love, does not seek a husband
—a hero must lay his. laurels at her leet.
Girls—is this so t
While Raymond and Waritig's'earavan
was being - exhibited in the West, a gawky,
long-legged Jo iathan from the 'coitntiy,
who had never "eon the elephant.;' glitter
literally or metaphorically, was stalltintio
lung carelessly in the pavilion, alternately
staring at the caged animals and era - taming
a sheet of gingerbread into his .rneoutii.
w h en ho suddenly came bump agaitutt
lurnbus. • ''
"Thunder and spikes !" exclaimed Ite.
staggering, backwards about twenty peer.
while his eyes stuck outlike letter, toopstign
—"what darn'it critter withtwo laui‘loo ,
UNGALLANT ItAN PAIIL t...jallillkal
sayi that a lady Otter, if SINI ING0114:10
give the word "h Id' to her atoopk_ *Will
do it somewhat ht this wise...olfott Sol
tilers, all of you, now minift"i onto' ,
as soon as I have Inhih.J
stand "stilt, every one of you, no the, ;,
where you happen to be.t don't y 1
me. halt, I say, all of your